balletrat (
balletrat) wrote in
milliways_bar2006-01-19 08:21 pm
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*Meg is sitting at a table in the bar, engaged in several tasks:
a.) attempting to feed the baby in her arms with some sort of pureed baby food, provided by the bar
b.) keeping said baby from wiggling off her lap to go exploring under the tables
and c.) rather frantically paging through a book on child care in front of her, whenever Derry stops squirming long enough to allow her to use one of her arms.
Derry, meanwhile, is engaged in one task: becoming the universe's foremost artist in the medium of pureed baby food.
Hey, everyone needs to have a dream.*
a.) attempting to feed the baby in her arms with some sort of pureed baby food, provided by the bar
b.) keeping said baby from wiggling off her lap to go exploring under the tables
and c.) rather frantically paging through a book on child care in front of her, whenever Derry stops squirming long enough to allow her to use one of her arms.
Derry, meanwhile, is engaged in one task: becoming the universe's foremost artist in the medium of pureed baby food.
Hey, everyone needs to have a dream.*
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I still say don't give up on a second person yet, *Meg offers, encouragingly.* We may get a nice hobbit girl in here yet - and in terms of suitability, you're much more suitable than at least three-quarters of the parents of kids I knew at home.
*. . . which isn't saying much, but still.
Derry, meanwhile, makes an AMAZING MIDAIR CATCH.
- or, you know, hits the frog and sends it falling back in the other direction.*
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He sounds a lot more exhasperated than anything else.
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*She takes the bold risk of letting go of Derry for a second, to tap her own head -*
But you're doing pretty okay, here.
*Another tap, a little below the neck, and to the left.*
You wouldn't hit a kid - or use them to make money - or ignore them. Right?
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Look - I've never been a parent - and I'll never be a parent - but like I said. I've seen lots of 'em.
There's a lot of things you can do wrong in raising kids - but if you don't hurt them, and you love them, and you try - well, I mean, you're a giant step ahead, right?
*A small grin.*
- I mean, Dieu, my dad's Desire - and hesheit isn't exactly what you'd think of as great parent material, if you didn't know much about himherit - but hesheit's doing pretty bloody good of late, I think.
*Except of course when it comes to Derry-omelettes.*
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Smeagol shrugs. He isn't looking at Meg.
"I've got a house, right? I've mostly got my head to myself. I'm fine this way."
Once you're lonely for long enough, you forget that you are.
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And you never know what'll happen - ow ow Derry let go of that -
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Nevermind the nightmares, or the paranoia, or the dread of whispers - but that's always been there.
Almost absentmindedly, he scoops up a bit more mashed carrot and deposits it on Derry's nose, and blows on her face.
He had a second-cousin twice-removed once, who laughed every time anybody did that to her.
But you had to smile too, so he does that. Because, after all, babies are good for that sort of thing.
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Derry laughs a lot. It's one of the things that goes along with having the personification of insanity as a mother.*
Being content with what you've got, *Meg offers,* is a pretty good way to go through life. Or afterlife. Whatever.
But it's kind of nice to have - you know, dreams and goals and all, too.
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*Meg stops, a little frustrated; Derry tugs on her hair disapprovingly, and Meg sighs, and takes a moment to think.*
So - you don't get stuck in a rut, I guess. And so when you have the chance for better things, you're not afraid to take them, you know?
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"But I don't have anything like that.
I'm just . . . I'm lucky that I have what I do, I think."
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Even if you don't know what it is.
*Derry blows a spit-bubble.*
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There's a difference between expecting and hoping.
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"Can't hope for anything better than this. It's better than anything I expected."