By: Denise James
Story concept by: Denise James and Monica Massey
Disclaimer: Okay, lemee see…Not mine, wouldn’t mind if they were. Characters belong to Petfly. This AU story concept belongs to me. Not making any money, but I could really use it. Therefore, you shouldn’t sue me unless you are really desperate for two picky, pesky dogs that eat a lot. A husband that also eats a lot and a little boy who loves hotdogs with big catsup, big mustard and fri fris…..
My love goes to Aaron who provides a world of inspiration and my sister who insists on taking advantage of said inspiration. Thanks also to all of you who have written me regarding this series. You’ll never know how much your words mean to me. All of your letters make me smile and several of you have almost made cry with your kindness and encouragement (Donnia).
Summary: Even baby Blair has bad days.
The entire bedroom floor was littered with toys and in the middle sat Christopher Blair Ellison. He sighed while looking over the mess, still not able to find just the right toy that fit his mood. Blair had been sent to his room to play while his father took care of a few things upstairs....namely, cleaning his gun.
The little one's growling belly told him that it was snack-time. Deciding that this was a task he could handle alone, he stood and made his way through the war zone that was his room. Cars crashed across his room as they were kicked out of the way and animals sqweeked when stepped upon. Baby Blair was on a mission.
He finally made it to the kitchen in one piece, unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for some of his toys. Blair stood in front of the old fridge in awe. He knew of the treasures that awaited him in the freezer, after all, he had been with his father when the shopping had been done. Now, it was just a matter of how...So while showing great determination, little Blair looked around the kitchen trying to formulate the best way to reach his favorite treat. Nothing was going to keep him from his objective.
Jim heard the sound of a chair sliding across the hardwood floor. The sound was loud to his sensitive ears; grating like nails being scraped across an old chalkboard. He then heard the sound of the old chair squeaking as little Blair climbed up to the fridge. Next he heard the tale tell suction, as the freezer door was pulled open, followed by the little smacking noises that echoed throughout the loft as little Blair smacked his lips in hearty anticipation. There was not so quiet muttering as the little boy worked to remove the lid from the container, his little tongue peeped out of the corner of his mouth in determination and concentration. "oh dats cowd." Blair whispered to himself as his chubby little hands gripped the container of ice cream.
Laying his gun and cleaning rag aside, Jim repositioned himself slightly and peered through his lofts railing and down into the kitchen. He smiled as he watched Blair standing on the chair, trying to figure out how he was going to get down with his little hands full. After a moment of thought, Blair took a mighty leap from the chair and landed with a solid thump on the floor, never loosing the ice cream; he knew what was important.
Jim made himself comfy on his bed as he peered through the railing. ///This should be quite a show, /// he thought to himself. Again the chair was in motion across the floor. Blair had sat the ice cream in the seat, and was now using both hands to maneuver the object to the cutlery drawer. With a few little grunts, he was rifling through the drawer, looking for "his" Scooby Doo spoon. Then came the real challenge, getting the top off of the Blue Bell ice cream container. The top was frozen securely to the bowl and little Blair frowned at his inability to open his most prized possession. The older Ellison could almost see the flash in Blair’s eyes as the tantrum began.
Just as Blair picked up the container, and was about to toss it into the floor and stomp on it, Jim yelled over the railing. "Don't you even think about it Junior!" Jim had seen this little stunt before, any time that Blair was unable to get his way; he took out his frustration and anger on the poor object at hand. Jim quickly made his way down the stairs.
Frustrated, but determined blue eyes met those of his father.
"Me wants it! Me wants some bites!" Blair screamed.
“You can have it. Let me open it for you.”
"No! Me don't wike it. Me hates izcweem" He folded his arms and stomped his foot.
"Fine, I'll put it up and then I can have it later...." Jim tried to catch any sign of a reaction from Blair...not seeing any, he added."....all by myself."
"NOOOOOO!!!!!" The little one screamed, His face twisting up in anger and his little hand drawing back as if to hit his father.
"Young man, you had better put that little hand down unless you want a spanking." Jim warned, picking up the frozen treat and placing it back in the freezer.
"Me don't wanna put it down." Blair screamed and stomped his foot again.
"Excuse me? You had better behave."
“ No...me don't wanna be’ave...Me wanna be bad." He finished his little tirade with a huff.
“Do you really want me to spank you?” Jim’s tone was becoming more forceful.
Blair crossed his arms tightly and soft brown curls bobbed with his nod.
“Young man, you are really beginning to push my buttons. One more little stunt and I will spank you.”
Blue eyes flashed in defiance. “Spank me din.”
Jim tried counting to ten to calm himself, but the longer he remained silent, the more Blair carried on. "I think it's time for a nap." With a quick move the frustrated father reached out to scoop up the little one, intent on putting him to bed.
"NooooNOOOONOOOOOO!!!!” Blair ran out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. The door slammed with a solid thud, and the snick of the lock engaging filled the sentinels ears.
"Damn!" Jim cursed softly. “I should really do away with that lock for now.” He made his way to the bathroom then reaching above the door, retrieved the key from the ledge of the doorframe. “ I'm coming in! You had better loose the attitude."
“No! It’s mine. Me don't wanna loose it.” The small voice huffed on the other side of the door.
Jim growled to himself, his anger slowly simmering. The door swung open, revealing Blair sitting on the potty, swinging his legs; the expression on his face was a testament to his mood. " Blair, why don't you take a nap and...."
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Little hands batted at the air, his normally angelic face flushed red with anger.
"Shush...listen to me! You can have some Ice cream when you wake up."
"Me don't wike it. Me don't wike naps......Me don't wike me bed...me hates it.” Even though tears pooled in large blue eyes, Blair stood his ground.
Now pretty angry himself, Jim gave in. "Fine, just stay in here then. Don't come out until you can behave."
Blair remained defiant. “ Me not going to be’ave.”
"Fine, Just sit here by yourself." Jim left the room, barely able to control his anger. /// There are times when I just don't know why I try. I give him all I have and it's not enough. /// The older Ellison sat down to a little television, willing his tattered nerves to relax. In the background he could still hear Blair muttering.
After about thirty minutes, there was no sign of Blair and the child was strangely quiet. Jim got up and made his way to the bathroom. He peeped around the door shocked when he didn't see Blair still on the toilet.... in fact, he didn't see Blair at all.
He listened for a moment, picking up the soft thump of a little heart.... Blair was here somewhere. Entering the small room, Jim approached the bathtub and carefully pulled back the curtain. Inside lay Blair, curled on his side and covered with a towel. “Of all places to take a nap." Jim sighed to himself, suddenly forgetting his earlier anger. With ease, Jim lifted Blair from the tub and took him to his room. After biting back a few curses, because he stepped on a few hard and now unidentifiable objects, Jim placed his son in the little car bed.
The baby stirred only once and said "me wufs you daddy." Tired eyes drifted shut again as Blair snuggled his head into his pillow.
Jim smiled and covered Blair with his favorite puppy blanket. It was at that moment that Jim realized that it didn't matter how much he gave or how much it was appreciated, because for those three little words, he would gladly give Blair the world.
The end.