Yowzah Oneshot Collection (2)

57(G)

both now and then, become again and again

                        hihoplastic

“Candles?”

“Yup.”

“Check. Fancy spoons?”

“Check.”

“Check. Fancy forks?”

Rory peers over the table at the five place settings, examining the silver with a scrutinous eye. “Check.”

John hides a smile and clears his throat, looking down at his list.

“Check. Flowers?”

Scrambling off the chair, Rory bounds into the kitchen and returns with a huge bouquet nearly half his size. It wobbles precariously in his arms, but he manages to hoist it onto the table, where John can put it between the candles.

“Did you write a silly card?”

“Oh! Good call, young sir.”

Rory giggles while John pats his pockets for a pen and note. “What should we say this time?”

Chewing his lower lip, Rory considers. “Do you know anything about dolphins? Mummy always smiles when they come on the telemision.”

John furrows his brow in dramatised concentration. “Oh! Did you know, dolphins use bits of sea sponges to protect their noses while they search for food! Like carpenters, only wet and—” He makes an elongated motion with his hand by his nose. “Kind of like your grandad.”

Rory laughs, holding a hand to his mouth as he nods furiously, and John grins, jotting down the note. Folding it carefully, he places it in the bouquet and returns to his list.

“Can I check it off?” Rory asks eagerly, and John smiles.

“It’s a very serious responsibility. You sure can handle it?” Rory nods, eyes wide, and John hands him the slip of paper and pen. “All right, then. What’s next?”

“Nana and PopPop?”

“Their plane came in about an hour ago, so they should be here soon.”

Rory frowns. “We can’t check them off yet ‘cause they’re not here.”

“Too true. Why don’t we hop over them, and see what else needs to be done?”

Nodding, Rory frowns down at the list. “Presents?”

“Ah!” John nods, whirling around as he beelines for the cabinet under the sink. Rory follows, peering over his shoulder as he pulls out an assortment of brightly wrapped presents.

Rory giggles. “Why are Mummy’s presents in there?”

Maneuvering the packages onto the table in the living room, John stacks them by size into a precarious tower. “It’s the one place your mum would never look,” he grins. “She hates cleaning.”

Rory snickers, poking at a box to straighten it. “They smell funny.”

John scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, might have been a bit of a Cif spill. Lemon fresh?” he asks hopefully.

Rory wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

“Ah, well. We’ll find a new hiding place, eh? Maybe we can put them under your bed!” Rory stares at him, halfway between amused and confused, and John waves his hand. “Never mind. What’s next?”

“Dinner.”

“Check.”

“Check. Dessert?”