Father's Day and Drinks Drabble
A drabble (or more like a ficlet, at 300+ words), in honor of Father's Day, and for the current Drabble Challenge at Black Pearl Sails...
~ After Dinner Drinks ~
“Da, can I have some o’ that?”
Jack, who’d been in the midst of the first delightful sip, choked and coughed, eyes watering. When he’d recovered, he said, irritably, “Bloody hell, Imp! No! Yer barely seven: wouldn’t appreciate it, anyway!”
Tom scowled. “Maybe I would. You do, an’ everybody says I’m…”
“…a chip off the ol’ block. I know.” Jack frowned down at his little son, and had to acknowledge the truth of this. Too clever by half. And as for looks…
“Please, Da?” Tom made play with wide eyes and a familiar pout.
Jack’s own eyes narrowed. He said, finally, “Your mother’d have me hide, Tom. Kill-devil’s not for young lads, no matter whence they’ve sprung. But what say you to this?” He lowered his voice, and Tom leaned close, eagerly. “I’ll make you a half-cup of grog-well-watered, mind!-but from now on, while we’re here, you’ll stay out of our room in the mornings-no more breakin’ in without leave.”
“But…but Da!” Tom said, dismayed. “You’d both stay abed ‘til noon if it wasn’t for me!”
O, blissful thought!
Jack drawled, “Aye, well, your mother needs her… rest. As do I. So that’s the bargain. What say you, young Sparrow? Do we have an accord?” He held out his hand.
After a moments’ hesitation, the little hand closed on Jack’s. “Aye. We do,” said Tom, as they shook on it. Then, he wheedled, “But could you not make it a full cup? I’d sleep later, myself, like as not.”
Jack laughed, and his eyes gleamed as he ruffled his son’s dark hair. “Like as not, you young scallywag! All right, a full cup.” More water and lime won’t hurt him. “But remember: this is just between us two. Savvy?”
An answering gleam and a flashing grin. “Aye, Da, I savvy!”
~.~
~ After Dinner Drinks ~
“Da, can I have some o’ that?”
Jack, who’d been in the midst of the first delightful sip, choked and coughed, eyes watering. When he’d recovered, he said, irritably, “Bloody hell, Imp! No! Yer barely seven: wouldn’t appreciate it, anyway!”
Tom scowled. “Maybe I would. You do, an’ everybody says I’m…”
“…a chip off the ol’ block. I know.” Jack frowned down at his little son, and had to acknowledge the truth of this. Too clever by half. And as for looks…
“Please, Da?” Tom made play with wide eyes and a familiar pout.
Jack’s own eyes narrowed. He said, finally, “Your mother’d have me hide, Tom. Kill-devil’s not for young lads, no matter whence they’ve sprung. But what say you to this?” He lowered his voice, and Tom leaned close, eagerly. “I’ll make you a half-cup of grog-well-watered, mind!-but from now on, while we’re here, you’ll stay out of our room in the mornings-no more breakin’ in without leave.”
“But…but Da!” Tom said, dismayed. “You’d both stay abed ‘til noon if it wasn’t for me!”
O, blissful thought!
Jack drawled, “Aye, well, your mother needs her… rest. As do I. So that’s the bargain. What say you, young Sparrow? Do we have an accord?” He held out his hand.
After a moments’ hesitation, the little hand closed on Jack’s. “Aye. We do,” said Tom, as they shook on it. Then, he wheedled, “But could you not make it a full cup? I’d sleep later, myself, like as not.”
Jack laughed, and his eyes gleamed as he ruffled his son’s dark hair. “Like as not, you young scallywag! All right, a full cup.” More water and lime won’t hurt him. “But remember: this is just between us two. Savvy?”
An answering gleam and a flashing grin. “Aye, Da, I savvy!”
~.~