36Author Note: So, I got some pretty epic reception for "Together Forever and Ever, But Only for Now." :) Therefore, to show you more of the little Garde, I give you..."Hiding Growing Up" ! :D
"San-dor..."
I groaned at the whine coming from my side. It's not like I didn't trust a babysitter with Nine- I didn't trust Nine with a babysitter. That left me with no choice than to take the kid with me grocery shopping. Now I know how my mother and father felt when they took me shopping, because the kid is acting just like I know I did.
He's restless. He's impatient. He's curious. And above all, he wants to mess with EVERYTHING.
"Sorry, buddy," I now pluck the toy action finger he was holding up to me with a pleading face, "not today."
"Buttt..." He whines, jumping up as best he can to try grabbing the toy, "buttt I want it!"
"Come on," I urge, setting it on the nearest shelf and taking his arm.
He begins twisting as I drag him along. As if buying bananas and cereal for the road wasn't bad enough on a warm, sleepy Sunday, Nine isn't helping my mood. Finally, I scoop him in one arm while at the dairy section; he was begging for some chocolate milk. With a reluctant sigh, I move to set him in the seat of our cart, knowing what would ensue. Sure enough, a shriek follows my intentions as he catches on.
"Nooo!" He's kicking and punching at my arm, "I'm not a baby!"
I sigh again. I guess he's not- He turned five two days ago. Even so, he's still pretty small in size; he can fit. His ego is bigger than his physical size, though, and he's acting like I'm trying to torture him. It's like when I try to get him to take a nap. Or when I try to get him to eat vegetables. Or when I try to get him to stop talking when I'm driving.
Or most of the time, really.
"Whatever." I reply tiredly, plopping him down best I can. I manage to get his backside in, but his legs are kicking wildly in denial of putting them through the holes built for riding.
"Nooo!" He howls, kicking my hand forcefully as I grab an ankle.
People are beginning to stare. Flashing them a nervous grin, I turn back to my wailing charge. By the way he's screaming, you'd think I was torturing him; I groan. The sound intrigues him briefly, giving me a vital second to pull his leg through a space. This only upsets him more, but his sharp kick aimed at my stomach gives me a golden chance to snatch his other ankle. By positioning my stomach away from the space he could kick me in with his other foot, I slide in his left leg, trapping his lower body. Instantly, his flailing becomes more frantic and angry.
"Let meeeee goooo!" He shrieks.
Now I'm fairly certain all of Wal Mart is staring at us. Groaning even louder, I start to push the cart- and Nine- along. He's squirming, pummeling his tiny, power-packed fists against my chest in protest. By the time we make it to the check-out isle, my ribs are aching and he's glaring at me.
"Your son?" The old cashier asks gruffly, eyeing Nine with distaste. Now that I think back, I think he was one of those watching him have a mondo meltdown.
When I nod mutely, he snorts, "My father would've worn my butt out by now. I had the good mind to take that initiative when he was squawling like a brat."
At those words. Nine's eyes widen. I get the feeling his Grandpa spanked him at least once- I know my father wore me out with a belt a few times. Now I glare t the man, flipping him a twenty.
"He's not your son, so stay out of our business," I state sharply; Nine giggles.
"My father would've worn you out, too," the man retorts bitterly, "and washed your smart mouth."
"My father would've punched you in the face." I feign innocence as I say this, slipping our bags on one arm, "so shut up before I take the same initiative."
Nine giggles again as the man sneers. Smirking, I offer one arm to my Garde; he reaches up eagerly. Wrapping my forearm around his ribs, I allow him to latch around my neck as we head for the truck.
"Sandor..." He drags my name out innocently, "would you ever spank me?"
"Nah," I shake my head, plopping him down in the passenger seat, "but I do think you earned yourself a visit from..."
I pause for effect. Eyes wide, he keeps as gaze on me as I'm setting down the groceries, and even more so as I get in the driver's seat.
"From who?" He tilts his head.
Smirking, I reach my hand over and tickle his stomach lightly, "The Tickle Fingers!"
He giggles loudly in protest, smacking my hand lightly as I start the engine. Smiling, I begin our journey again; he's pretty cute when he's giggling like that. He can be a pest, sure, but he's still my little buddy.
Maybe if people like that crabby old fart knew that, they wouldn't be so quick to judge.
