Parenting Paul

Chapter 20: Going Bananas

Several minutes later, back at Paul's apartment, Heather and Paul both were sitting at the dining table, each of them looking at their plates of poorly prepared omelets. "Well, that's definitely an omelet with everything in it...." Paul grimaced as he lifted his fork and looked at the abhorrent abomination that he and Heather had created with loathsome contempt. Heather, meanwhile, was brave enough to touch it with her hands. "Taste it Mr. Paul...it's your fault it got burnt...." Heather soon blamed him as she pressed her fingers into the gooey dish which made Paul cringe with disgust. "How is it my fault?" He asked with irritation as Heather picked out the tiny peppers. "You went back to your office again, remember? Grandpa says never walk away from the kitchen whenever the stove or oven is on..." Heather chastised him as he rolled his eyes trying to hint that he was being quite bothered by her scoldings. "You're the one that added egg shells to the meal, that's probably why it smells funky." Paul soon defended as Heather soon pushed her plate away.

"Is there anything else for breakfast?" Heather sheepishly asked as Paul looked at her and subconsciously took a bite of his omelet. "Well, there's some more rashers on the counter, I made some stand alone strips.." he offered as he flinched due to noticing what he had just put into his mouth. "I'm gonna have snacks then.." Heather soon announced as she stood up, and began to move her chair across the kitchen towards the counter so she could climb on top to reach the cupboard. Paul silently watched as he sipped his coffee. About an hour had passed, and Paul was sitting on the couch with his guitar attempting once more to write an original song to impress Jane, but was miserably distracted by the fact that he was infatuated by Linda Eastman. "Princess Tiger is bored!" Heather soon whined as she twirled around the living room and began plucking random guitar strings, which frustrated Paul. "Not my problem, I'm busy..." he grumped as he continued to play the proper notes. "Please, can you play with me?" Heather suddenly begged as she resumed playing off key strings. Due to his increasing frustration, Paul huffed angrily at the girl who was desperate for anyone's attention. "Don't little kids about your age take naps?"
He asked her trying to come up with something to convince her to end her campaign for his enthrallment.

"I used to take morning naps, but that was when I was younger, I stopped when I turned 4." Heather answered as Paul started to think of an idea that was cunning enough to make Heather listen. "Well, children in England take naps until they are older, this one little boy I know, he's 5 years old, and he still takes naps with his primary school class." Paul explained as Heather listened intently. "He does?" Heather asked with disbelief. "He does, now run along, find somewhere, preferably away from me, that you can take your nap." He soon showed her off. "But, I'm not tired! Can you sing me some songs then?" Heather cried as she soon hopped onto the couch and pulled on his shirt sleeve. "Alright, but, you better fall asleep.." he reluctantly agreed as Heather nodded happily. Paul suddenly began to strum on his guitar softly, yet it was not the same tune he had been working on. "This is a little tune, or I should say a story, that is about everyday objects that we hardly ever take second thoughts on." He soon began as Heather looked up at him watching his fingers as they seemingly glided across the instrument as if they were perfectly harmonized birds flying through the sky.

Motorcars, handlebars
Bicycles for two
Broken-hearted jubilee
Parachutes, army boots
Sleeping bags for two
Sentimental jamboree
"Buy, buy, " says the sign in the shop window
"Why? Why?" Says the in junk the yard
Da-da-ya, da-da-da-da-da-da
Da-da-ya-da, da
Da-da-da-da-da
Da-da
Candlesticks, building bricks
Something old and new
Memories for you and me
"Buy, buy, " says the sign in the shop window
"Why? Why?" Says the junk in the yard

As Paul concluded his song, he noticed that Heather had fallen asleep, and was still holding onto his shirt sleeve, but albeit not as tightly. "Thank god..." he whispered as he stood up and headed towards his office. Martha stealthily followed behind him, as he made his way to the back room of the apartment, "Having children is delightful when they're quiet and not doing anything....." he whispered towards Martha as they both entered the office, however, just as he was preparing to sit down in his office chair, the rotary telephone rang, which startled him. "Son of a bitch!" He groaned under his breath, as he reluctantly made his way back to the kitchen. "Yes, hello?" Paul answered with aggravation as he shifted his eyes towards the couch where Heather remained asleep. "McCartney, it's Alan, do you have several minutes to chat?" Alan Klein asked through the phone. "Um, I guess....what's up?" He answered as he shifted his eyes towards the living room again. "I just wanted to let you know that I've been informed that you have agreed with Lennon to begin the creation process for new musical  material..." Alan began as Paul nodded, listening obviously aloof. "Yeah?" Paul sneered as he looked at the couch for an additional third time, and noticed Heather was no longer there. "Fuck...." He soon mumbled as his eyes rapidly began analyzing the room in an effort to find Heather.