mocha #17 + whipped cream + malt - "we're okay"
Author: hi_falootin
Prompt: mocha 17. my own way
Toppings: whipped cream
Extra: MALT! ichthusfish dared me to write something from 4 year old Dee's POV.
Word Count: 316
Rating: G
Notes: Another shorty! Set sometime after this piece.
It's just DeeDee and her dad in the kitchen. A father/daughter moment...and soup.
"I want to help."
It's just DeeDee and her dad in the kitchen. Grandma Kay and Auntie Chrissie have taken baby Jason out shopping; DeeDee had to remind them to take his hat.
DeeDee grabs ahold of dad's knee, presses her face against the side of his leg. "Dad?"
Dad's stirring a pot of soup on the stove and reading a book with his free hand. He sets it down on the counter, open on its face, when he feels the tug on his pants.
"What do you want to help with, kiddo?"
DeeDee points up to the pot of soup. Dad chuckles and sets down the wooden spoon; he bends over and scoops DeeDee up in his arms, sets her down on the counter by the stove.
"You want to stir?" he asks, offering her the spoon.
DeeDee nods, taking the large spoon in her hand and sliding it into the pot of soup, copying Dad. Dad laughs again, nuzzles her face with his whiskery chin.
"You're such a good helper, Dee. Thank you."
She smiles at the feel of his stickery face, then looks down at the soup with intention, watches the meat and vegetables swirl around with her efforts.
"Dad, why does Auntie Christine keep calling us poor kids? I don't like that. I don't want to be a poor kid."
Dad sighs, looking away from her for a second. "She just loves you and worries about you, honey. But don't you worry. You and your brother are just fine. You're going to be okay."
"Yeah, I know that, Dad," DeeDee says, imagining she sounds very mature.
"Don't worry about what Auntie Chrissie says," Dad repeats, "We have each other, and we're going to do things our way from now on. We can do anything we want, kid."
"Can we make cupcakes?" Dee asks hopefully.
Dad smiles. "Yeah. We can even do that."
Prompt: mocha 17. my own way
Toppings: whipped cream
Extra: MALT! ichthusfish dared me to write something from 4 year old Dee's POV.
Word Count: 316
Rating: G
Notes: Another shorty! Set sometime after this piece.
It's just DeeDee and her dad in the kitchen. A father/daughter moment...and soup.
"I want to help."
It's just DeeDee and her dad in the kitchen. Grandma Kay and Auntie Chrissie have taken baby Jason out shopping; DeeDee had to remind them to take his hat.
DeeDee grabs ahold of dad's knee, presses her face against the side of his leg. "Dad?"
Dad's stirring a pot of soup on the stove and reading a book with his free hand. He sets it down on the counter, open on its face, when he feels the tug on his pants.
"What do you want to help with, kiddo?"
DeeDee points up to the pot of soup. Dad chuckles and sets down the wooden spoon; he bends over and scoops DeeDee up in his arms, sets her down on the counter by the stove.
"You want to stir?" he asks, offering her the spoon.
DeeDee nods, taking the large spoon in her hand and sliding it into the pot of soup, copying Dad. Dad laughs again, nuzzles her face with his whiskery chin.
"You're such a good helper, Dee. Thank you."
She smiles at the feel of his stickery face, then looks down at the soup with intention, watches the meat and vegetables swirl around with her efforts.
"Dad, why does Auntie Christine keep calling us poor kids? I don't like that. I don't want to be a poor kid."
Dad sighs, looking away from her for a second. "She just loves you and worries about you, honey. But don't you worry. You and your brother are just fine. You're going to be okay."
"Yeah, I know that, Dad," DeeDee says, imagining she sounds very mature.
"Don't worry about what Auntie Chrissie says," Dad repeats, "We have each other, and we're going to do things our way from now on. We can do anything we want, kid."
"Can we make cupcakes?" Dee asks hopefully.
Dad smiles. "Yeah. We can even do that."