Swapped Around

Twelve~ Bathtime and Breakfast

I sighed as I carried the two soot-covered kids up to the washroom on the second floor. I had to kick open the door with my foot, given that my hands were occupied by the squabbling pair. The door creaked dangerously in its hinges; Canada always tells me to be gentle with the house but with my hero-like strength it's difficult not to break things every now and again.

I dump England and France into the floor and start to run the tap in the bath. Most houses don't have running water, but being countries we are provided with luxuries like this for free.

Turning around to check on the kids, I watch them patter around on the once-spotless tile floor, tracking black footprints all over the room. I sigh. "Dudes, you're gonna have to clean up all the mess you make if you carry on like that."

"Zhat's not fair!" France says stubbornly. "It's Angleterre's fault zhat I'm covered in zhis in zhe first place!"

"Just get in the bath, Franny." I smile, pulling his gown over his head and putting him in the now full bathtub. I do the same for England, but he's so short that he accidentally submerges his entire head underneath the warm water. He sits up, spluttering and shaking it out of his eyes.

"Bleh!" He grumbles. "Naughty bath!"

The two splash around in the bath for a while, their sooty skin slowly returning to its normal pale colour. England had blatantly refused to let me use a scrubbing brush to rid him of the thick layer of black powder, instead messing around with a couple of wooden boats that me and Canada used to play with when we were younger.

"Can I play?" France asks, as England pushes the ships around on the surface of the water. The smaller boy looks up, blinking and holding the ships protectively against his chest. He seems to consider it a little, before sticking his tongue out and returning to playing.

"Iggy, be nice!" I say indignantly.

"Fine~" He whinges. "But I get the red one." He adds, floating the blue one over to France. Making sure that they are content with the toys, I get up and check outside the door to see a sleepy looking Canada shuffling across the corridor with his bear on his head and a blanket around his shoulders.

"Canabro!" I call, leaning against the doorframe.

"Oh, hi America." He replies flatly, stifling a yawn.

"Look, dude, I know you like, only just woke up but Franny and Iggwad were messing around downstairs and got soot all over the carpet and, cause I have to make sure they don't drown in the bath or something, do you mind cleaning up?"

He groans, rolling his eyes. "Maybe a little later. Tell the boys it's pancakes for breakfast."

"Sure thing, Dude!" I say, waving him off down the stairs. I am interrupted by a shriek from the bathroom. Momentarily freaking out, I run back into the bathroom to check on the pair.

"Uwaaaa! You got soap in my eyes!" France yells, as England giggles mischievously behind his hands. He reaches up and rubs his eyes furiously with the heels of his hands. I slip on the floor as I reach him.

"Argh! France, li'l dude, don't do that! You'll make it worse!" I fuss, taking the corner of a nearby towel and wiping his eyes. I help them out of the bath, deciding that they're clean enough. They tumble around in the thick wrapping of fluffy towels that I used to dry them off.

"America! My eye hurts!" France cries, waddling over to me once I get them into my room to find them some clean clothes. I turn around, trying to keep a smile on. The pair are a handful, and it was giving me a headache having just to look after them.

"C'mere, let me see," I say, squatting down. France opens his blue eye wide, letting me look to see if anything was wrong.  It was a little bloodshot but it didn't seem too bad. "It'll be fine. Just leave it alone and it'll stop hurting, kay?"

"Oui."

I hand him a similar white gown to the one he was wearing before. "Now pop this on and run downstairs, Papa Canada is making pancakes."

France pulls the gown over his head, tousling up his wet hair. He combs it a little with his fingers, then disappears through the door and down the stairs. I find another gown for England, the little country sitting patiently on the bed. He struggles to put it on, finding his arms through the neck-hole and his head stuck in the middle.

"Daddy, I'm stuck." He says, his high-pitched voice muffled by the soft material. I chuckle, untangling him and dressing him properly. "There ya' go, now downstairs to breakfast!" I smile, patting him in the back and chasing him out of the door.

"Come on, hurry up before the big monster gets you!" I tease, hanging my arms like a gorilla and stomping my feet. England staggers back a little, shrieking with laughter and running down the stairs. I stomp after him, making monster noises and pretending to be fierce and scary.

"Hahaha! You can't catch me!" England taunts, pausing at the door that leads to the kitchen. I lumber behind him, acting frustrated as if I couldn't catch him. Obviously I was way faster than the tiny kid in real life.

In the kitchen, France and Canada stand at the stove, France on his tiptoes holding a frying pan over the gas ring and Canada standing over him, steadying his hand so he didn't burn anything. A stack of delicious looking crepes is on the table, where England struggles to clamber onto chair.

With a long sweep of my 'monster' arm, I scoop him off the floor and sit down in the chair with him on my lap, tickling him relentlessly. He screams and giggles and writhes in my arms, batting away my hands with his tiny little paws.

"Be quiet will you? We'll burn the house down by accident if you startle us." Canada asks, not taking his eyes away from the stove. France turns around and sticks his tongue out at England. England huffs, before crossing his eyes and making a weird face.

France sticks his thumb on his nose and wiggles his fingers, England replies with a grotesque monkey face.

I zone out as the two continue their 'face making' competition, my mind drifting off to random things. Yesterday, England had told me that he had older brothers, which came as a shock. If they knew that we had England, they might attack us, which would not be the nicest possibility.

France, on the other hand, was a small European country who, despite its lack of advancement, had somehow managed to keep a stable borderline. Apparently he was prone to invasions from various countries such as Spain, Germany and Austria, which, now that he was our colony, we would have to help out with.

I think it was an understatement to say that taking in the two children was going to be difficult; handling multiple fights with various angry countries whilst having to cater for them and break up their petty arguments which would no doubt develop into full-blown fights once they were a little older.

"Dadddddddddy~" England whines. I look down and sigh. "Pancakes are ready!"

I grin at the delicious smelling pile of food on my plate, for once not forgetting to thank Canada ford cooking. France tries to elegantly eat his pancakes with cutlery, but ended up with the thing flopping all over his plate. England never tried in the first place and ate it with his hands.

I laugh as he licks the gooey maple syrup off his fingers, looking dubiously up at me with those massive green eyes. "Jeez, Iggy! Ever heard of manners?"

"I like to hear that coming from you of all people." Canada laughs, elbowing me playfully.

"No one ever taught me how to use a knife and fork..." England pointed out. "Cutlery is for rich people."

"What? And just when I zhought your country couldn't get even less civilised! How undignified!" France exclaims, dropping his pancake again.

"I learnt how to use a knife as a weapon, does that count, Frog?" The shorter asked threateningly with more malice than I thought possible from the derpy little nation.

"Break it up, dudes! England, killing people with kitchen utensils is a bad move if you don't want to get arrested and France, stop being hypocritical; you're just as bad as him!" I point out, waving my hands between the two before someone got stabbed in the eye with a fork.

"Am not!" France yells.

"Are too!" I reply.

Canada sighs, slowly making his way through the pancakes which we abandoned. "You're all just as childish as the next, why don't you just face it."