"But Papaaaaa," three-year-old Spazzy whined, "I wanna pway outside! I wanna go on the swing!"
"Maybe another day, Spazz," Billie consoled, running a hand through his son's downy dark brown hair. "It's pouring, baby."
"Bu...but it's just like bath time, Papa!" Spazzy squeaked, looking up at his father with sad, beseeching eyes. "It's just bath time..."
"No,no," Billie chided gently, shaking his head. "It's not like bathtime at all, if you're out in the rain for too long, you get sicky poo. And we don't want that, do we? When you get sicky you feel all yucky and have to take medicine and go see the doctor..."
"Nooooo!" Spazzy whined, throwing himself at his father's legs and burying his face in them. "NOOO! I don't wanna go to doctor!Nooo...he...he'll do the poky thing and the poky thing..."
The little boy unburied his face from his father's leg, looking up at him with frightened eyes.
"...the poky thing is ouchie..."
"I know, baby," Billie cooed gently, "but if you don't go outside, you won't have to go to the doctor. It's as simple as that. Come on now, there's plenty to do, we can color, or watch a movie, or you can help Daddy make cookies..."
He expected his son to jump at his final offer, but instead, the little boy simply peeled himself off his father's leg and toddled over to the glass door, pressing his little face up against it and looking out at the now soaking wet treehouse wistfully.
"Spazzy," Billie said just a bit sternly, "come on buddy, come, we can't play outside today. Maybe tomorrow. Come on, let's do something else, we can make cookies...and eat ice cream...and watch Cars..."
Once again expecting the boy to jump at the offer, Billie was fairly surprised when the boy paid him no mind and continued to stare out the door.
"Spazzy..." Billie said, raising his voice just a bit more than he had before. "Come on, Spazzy, come here..."
Spazzy unstuck his face from the door and turned to face his father with tears in his deep green eyes.
"Papa...pweeeaassee?" he begged as the tears began to stream down his face. "P-p-pwease?"
As much as the look the boy gave him melted his heart, and as much as it pained him to say no, Billie had to do what he had to do.
"No, Spazzy. I already said no. Now come on, let's make some cookies, yeah?"
Just as Billie turned away from the door and towards the pantry, making the very incorrect assumption that the boy had begun to follow him, the dog rounded the corner and let himself out through the doggy door.
At the moment, Billie didn't make much of it, or even notice it really, but his son, however, was a completely different story.
Upon seeing the dog let himself out, the creative and determined little boy decided to do the same.
He quietly lowered himself down onto the floor, looking over his shoulder to see if Papa was watching him. After affirming that his father was indeed distracted, Spazzy crawled forward and wriggled through the doggy door, making enough noise to get his father's attention.
"Spazzy?" Billie asked, straightening up.
After he received no response he turned around and looked out the sliding glass doors to see his son getting up off the floor and running out into the rain.
He immediately began to smolder with rage.
He sprinted toward the doors and ripped them open, screaming out into the open air, "BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG, YOU GET BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"
Spazzy, however, was too thrilled with his success to pay his smoldering father any mind.
He ran around the backyard laughing hysterically, jumping into mud puddles and rolling around in the wet, squishy grass and reveling in the soothing scent of summer rain.
"BILLIE MARCIANO!" the frazzled father shouted, his face bright red with anger, "INSIDE! NOW!"
Spazzy only laughed, blatantly seeing this all as the world's funnest game and continuing to run around in the swampy grass.
"Come catch me, Papa!" the boy shouted gleefully, obviously not noticing just how upset his father was.
"NO, I WILL NOT CATCH YOU, BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG, YOU WILL GET YOUR LITTLE BUTT OVER HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT AND COME INSIDE!"
"You can't catch me!" the little boy sang as he jumped around in a mud puddle. "You can't get me, Papa!"
"EXCUSE ME? YES I CAN, BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG, AND I'M
GOING TO GO OUT THERE AND GRAB YOUR ASS AND PUNISH THE SHIT OUT OF YOU IF YOU DON'T COME HERE RIGHT NOW!"
"You can't catch me!" the little boy chorused sweetly, rolling around in the mud puddle like a piglet.
"BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG I AM GOING TO COUNT TO THREE, AND WHEN I GET TO THREE, YOU BETTER BE IN THE HOUSE, OR I WILL GROUND YOU!"
"You can't get meeee!"
"ONE! TWO!"
"C'mon Papa, chase me!"
"TWO AND A HALF...BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG DON'T MAKE ME GET TO THREE..."
"Come onnnn, Papa! Chase me!"
"THREE! THAT'S IT, LITTLE BOY, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO YOU."
He ran after the little boy, his feet furiously sloshing about in the grass.
Spazzy, now elated to see that his father was finally playing with him, continued to run around in circles, giggling uncontrollably.
"BILLIE MARCIANO ARMSTRONG, COME HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU NEED TO BE TAUGHT A NICE LITTLE LESSON!"
The rage and fury blinded Billie from
his surroundings, so much so that as he chased the boy, he failed to see the very slippery roots of a tree in the grass.
He tripped and tumbled to the ground, landing face-first in a disgustingly wet mud puddle.
Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Spazzy stopped running and toddled over to his father lying face-down in the mud, giggling hysterically.
Slowly, Billie lifted his head out of the mud, so angry that the veins on his forehead pulsed and twitched.
Opening his eyes, he saw his son in front of him, and his instant reflex was to reach out and grab him and give him the spanking of a lifetime.
But something stopped him.
He wasn't sure if it was the adorably jubilant smile on the boy's face, or the musical giggles, or just how undeniably cute he looked covered head to toe in mud, but something kept him from delivering a few forceful whacks to the boy's unblemished backside.
"You're all muddy, Papa!" the boy chirped, giggling some more.
Billie slowly straightened up, looking straight at the boy and (partially) faking the anger he had felt just a moment before.
"Come...here...you...little...shit..."
Before Spazzy could say a word, Billie reached out and snatched him up into his arms, holding him upside down and tickling him and dunking him into the mud.
The giggles that had left the boy's
mouth just a few moments earlier were nothing in comparison to the ones that filled the air as a result of his father's playing with him.
He squirmed out of Billie's arms and threw mud at his face, giggling adorably and trying to run away before Billie could catch him.
"Come here, you!" Billie shouted, a smile now appearing on his face as he pulled himself up and chased his baby around the swampy yard.
"You can't catch me, Papa!" Spazzy sang, jumping from puddle to puddle and laughing at the funny feeling of raindrops falling on his nose. "You too slow!"
"Oh yes I can, just you watch, little shit!"
"Nooo, no you can't!"
At that, Billie threw himself forward and slid across the slippery grass and pulled Spazzy down with him, dunking him into another mud puddle as they both laughed like wild animals.
"Ah! I gotchu, Spazzy!" Billie cried, tickling Spazzy under his arms and on his belly and splashing mud all over him. "I got you!"
"Y-you got me, Papa!" the baby squealed through fits of giggles. "You got me!"
"Yeahhhh," Billie drawled, leaning down towards his son and kissing all over his muddy neck and cheeks and blowing raspberries on his belly.
"Papa!" Spazzy squealed, "Papa, that tickleses me!"
"Agggghh, I'm the Tickle Monster!" Billie play growled, continuing to tickle his son and laughing adoringly at his reaction.
Eventually, they settled down, and Billie laid down on the ground, reveling in the feeling of the wet grass on his fingers and in the smell
of the rainy summer air. Spazzy crawled onto his belly, lying there with his little head cuddled into his Papa's chest until the father sat up.
Holding the boy to his chest, he lifted his muddy little chin up towards him with his fingers in an affectionate gesture, saying to him, "Come on, Bubba, it's getting cold and yucky out here, let's go take a nice warm bath and get clean. And then we can take a nice, long nap together and listen to the rain..."
"Okay, Papa!" Spazzy chirped in agreement, smiling up at the man holding him.
"Yeah, my boy," Billie whispered, nuzzling his nose into Spazzy's temple lovingly. "C'mon, baby, let's go warm up in the tub so we can cuddle wuddle."
"Mmm hmm, Papa," Spazzy squeaked, now lying his head on his father's chest as the man stood up and began to walk back towards the comforting warmth of the house, all the anger that had been present just a few moments before washed away by the rain and replaced by the love that swelled in a certain father's heart as a result of a very special little boy's musical giggling.
{End}
(well fuck that was absolute garbage but please comment, vote, and enjoy!)