erik doesn't know what's worse, the pots or the macaroni maracas
Oh, I forgot I had this! This is the last daycare ficlet that I've been sitting on. I wrote like, three things in one day and decided to space them out, and this is the last of my stash ;D Just a couple hundred pointless words.
***
Erik jabs each number on the keypad hard enough that he fears he'll inadvertently crush the insides of the phone. The fear doesn't stop him, however, from punching in all ten digits and pressing the phone against his ear while covering the other ear with his palm.
Moira picks up on the third ring.
"Hello?" she says.
"I am going to kill him," he shouts into the phone. "And you, MacTaggart, will be complicit in the murder."
"Oh, don't pin this on me," Moira replies. "You've met Charles, right? Do you think anyone ever tells him what to do? He came up with this one all on his own."
"I don't care!" Erik shouts. "You could have stopped him! You had your chance to save him, MacTaggart. I hope you remember that when you're delivering his eulogy."
"Oh, come on," Moira says. "It can't be that ba--"
Erik misses the end of her sentence, pulling the phone away from his ear in order to point it in the direction of the kitchen. He winces at the increase in volume now that one of his ears is uncovered, but gives it a good ten count before returning the phone to his ear.
"--orry, sorry, sorry! Jesus!" Moira's shouting.
"Do you understand now?" he asks. "Will you testify at my trial that this is a justifiable homicide?"
"Oh, you could never go through with it," Moira says. "He'd just give you those big, innocent eyes like he always does and you'd give in. It will be the zoo all over again."
"He tricked me!" It's an old argument, but one that Erik won't let go. "You know me! I never would have agreed to that zoo debacle otherwise!"
"The point is, he turned those big blue eyes on you and you were agreeing without even thinking about it," Moira says. "That's Charles. He makes you think he's all cute and innocent, but he's a conniving fiend underneath it all."
"I'm going to drown him in the kitchen sink!" Erik says in reply.
The noise in the kitchen stops. Erik's ears ring in the sudden absence of sound.
"Did you say something, darling?" Charles calls cheerfully. Erik turns around to give Charles ten seconds to run for his life, but Charles is smiling innocently, cheeks flushed with pleasure, eyes clear and bright, and Erik forgets what he was going to say.
"Uh," Erik says.
"Well," Charles says, "while you're trying to remember, tell me which of these pots you think would make the best bass drum."
And then the noise starts again.
"Told you!" Moira shouts. "Conniving mastermind. Devilish fiend."
"Fuck this all," Erik says. "I'm going to go drown myself." He hangs up the phone, cursing the daycare, homemade musical instruments, and wherever it was Charles first heard the words 'music appreciation week.'
***
Erik jabs each number on the keypad hard enough that he fears he'll inadvertently crush the insides of the phone. The fear doesn't stop him, however, from punching in all ten digits and pressing the phone against his ear while covering the other ear with his palm.
Moira picks up on the third ring.
"Hello?" she says.
"I am going to kill him," he shouts into the phone. "And you, MacTaggart, will be complicit in the murder."
"Oh, don't pin this on me," Moira replies. "You've met Charles, right? Do you think anyone ever tells him what to do? He came up with this one all on his own."
"I don't care!" Erik shouts. "You could have stopped him! You had your chance to save him, MacTaggart. I hope you remember that when you're delivering his eulogy."
"Oh, come on," Moira says. "It can't be that ba--"
Erik misses the end of her sentence, pulling the phone away from his ear in order to point it in the direction of the kitchen. He winces at the increase in volume now that one of his ears is uncovered, but gives it a good ten count before returning the phone to his ear.
"--orry, sorry, sorry! Jesus!" Moira's shouting.
"Do you understand now?" he asks. "Will you testify at my trial that this is a justifiable homicide?"
"Oh, you could never go through with it," Moira says. "He'd just give you those big, innocent eyes like he always does and you'd give in. It will be the zoo all over again."
"He tricked me!" It's an old argument, but one that Erik won't let go. "You know me! I never would have agreed to that zoo debacle otherwise!"
"The point is, he turned those big blue eyes on you and you were agreeing without even thinking about it," Moira says. "That's Charles. He makes you think he's all cute and innocent, but he's a conniving fiend underneath it all."
"I'm going to drown him in the kitchen sink!" Erik says in reply.
The noise in the kitchen stops. Erik's ears ring in the sudden absence of sound.
"Did you say something, darling?" Charles calls cheerfully. Erik turns around to give Charles ten seconds to run for his life, but Charles is smiling innocently, cheeks flushed with pleasure, eyes clear and bright, and Erik forgets what he was going to say.
"Uh," Erik says.
"Well," Charles says, "while you're trying to remember, tell me which of these pots you think would make the best bass drum."
And then the noise starts again.
"Told you!" Moira shouts. "Conniving mastermind. Devilish fiend."
"Fuck this all," Erik says. "I'm going to go drown myself." He hangs up the phone, cursing the daycare, homemade musical instruments, and wherever it was Charles first heard the words 'music appreciation week.'