Like Father Like Son

Parenting Skills

John walked up the stairs of 221b, into the lounge where Sherlock was sitting at his desk typing and Hamish was throwing his arms around, having a tantrum. Sherlock wasn't paying full attention to his son, but was still getting irritated by all the noise, when he was obviously trying to work.

"Woah, woah. Hamish, what's the matter? What's all the fuss about!?" John shouted. He walked over to Sherlock and sat on his lap. Sherlock looked slightly annoyed at this deviance to his work, but didn't care much. It was his husband, after all.

"I dont want to go to nursery!" Hamish screamed. He ripped off his tie and threw it at his dads. Sherlock and John ducked, so it hit the window and fell to the floor.

"Jesus! Hamish, you have to. Its the law!" John laughed, Hamish reminded him of Sherlock so much. Both drama queens.

"I don't really care, can you go and do this in another room? Or outside the nursery doors. Just some where so I can't hear you. So I can actually work, thank you." Sherlock said, not even looking up from his laptop screen just casually waving his hand. John hit his husband lightly on the arm.

"Sherlock, this is our sons education. His future. And you're just saying that you dont care. Wow, great parenting skills." John stood up, grabbed the tie, grabbed Hamish's hand and strode out the door. Meanwhile, Sherlock looked incredibly offended by Johns sarcastic remark. He tried to be a good, playful dad but work often got in the way. How was he supposed to work on a case, be a dad, be a husband, and have other business to deal with all at once? He needed a break, John did too. But the term had only just begun (it was only 11th September), and the family had got back from their holiday 23 days ago. They had  just settled back into family life, and they were already counting down the days till half term, so Hamish was off school, and the small family could get away.

John and his son found a cab and clambered into it.

"Why do you hate school so much Hamish? I thought you had a friend, what's her name... Oh Abby. Yeah, she seemed nice." John asked Hamish.

"Oh yeah, Abby. She's nice, I like her. Its just the other people. They're mean."

"Mean? Who? Why would anyone be mean to you?" John said worringly. He knew their son was different, his brain was far more advanced than any other child at the nursery. But children of 2 and 3 years can't be bullies yet.

"They tease me about not having a mum. And pretending to be clever because they think Im faking my cleverness." Hamish mumbled into his hands. John put a hand under Hamish's chin and lifted it up to look into John's eyes.

"Son, it doesn't matter that you dont have a mum. You've got me, and Dad. Two loving parents, I could pretend to be a woman but I don't think anyone wants that. And you know you're clever, we do too. It doesn't matter what they think. Who cares about them." John didn't want Hamish having low self-esteem at this age, he was only 2.

When they arrived at the nursery, Hamish reluctantley climbed out of the taxi and John led him into the reception. The woman, Lindsay, greeted the father and son with a welcoming smile.

"Ah hello Hamish, John. Everyone's in the main room Hamish." She said cheerfully. John kissed Hamish on the cheek and said goodbye. He was just about to return to the taxi which was waiting when Lindsay tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry to keep you, its just I think we need to talk." She said, suddenly her child-friendly smile had evolved into a dead straight scoul. John instantly gulped and composed himself. What could this be about? It was only a week after Hamish had started here, and something already needed to be sorted out it seems. John nodded, telling Lindsay to carry on.