((Please note that this scene includes some brief adult content.))
Dinner time in the Rogers' household was often chaotic, but it was organized chaos. With a family of seven, the kids had their fair share of chores, which consisted mainly of setting the table and feeding their various pets. The older children helped the younger children, and except for some occasional grumbling and minor disagreements, dinner time usually ran like a charm. Steve and Lucy wouldn't really have it any other way, and though they weren't strict disciplinarians, the children seemed mostly happy to cooperate. Still, a new baby right next door was an exciting event and had even the smallest of the Rogers' children excited.
"Jamie," Steve said, for perhaps the fifth time. "Use your fork, son. You're making a mess."
Steve was right - there was a lot of mess tonight, and it was entirely because everyone was over-excited. "All right," Lucy suddenly announced. "Everyone stop eating and put your hands on the table." She demonstrated, making eye contact with each of the children until they actually did it. Even the twins made a creditable attempt, wide-eyed and grinning at Mama's sudden assertive calm. "Now," Lucy said in as soothing a tone as she could manage, "we are going to sit silently for one minute and imagine all that twitchy energy dribbling out of us through our toes."
"But Mama, I'm using a fork!" Martin pointed out helpfully, holding up said fork to make his point. He was the eldest, after all, at nearly eleven years old and thought he should be exempt from scolding.
"Mama said everyone, Martin," Steve reminded his son, setting an example by putting his fork down and setting his hands obediently on the table.
Lucy smiled at her eldest reassuringly. They'd talked about things like this, that she needed him to go along with her in front of his siblings more often than not. "All right, smalls," she declared. "Take a deep breath in through your nose, and let it out through your mouth, and dribble all that energy into the floor for me."
"When can we go see baby Lia?" Jamie asked, as he wiggled in his seat, clearly more than a little over-excited. "She's got aw'most the same name as you, Li!" he declared with a grin, despite his mother's directions.
"Jamie, are you listening to your mother?" Steve asked, gently. Martin nudged his brother's arm, who blinked in surprise and turned his attention to Lucy.
"Oh, sorry, Mama," he said, rubbing his nose instead of taking a deep breath through it.
Lianne shushed her brother at the same time as everyone else seemed to, beaming across the table at him. The twins, on the other hand ....Sarah was inspecting a fascinating bit of mashed potato on her palm, and Natalia was scratching her head with her spoon, but they were both quiet, so that was good enough.
Lucy chuckled softly, letting Jamie calm down a little bit. "All right, are we all calm?" she asked quietly. "We'll go and visit Colin and Nat tomorrow, but not all at once. There are a lot of us, you know."
"There's seven of us!" Jamie declared with a grin. "See" One, two, t'ree ..." he started, pointing at each one at the table in turn. "Do the twins count as one or two?" he asked, uncertainly, wrinkling his nose in confusion.
"Two, darling," Lucy assured him, signaling that everyone could start eating again now things seemed to have calmed down. "They're not one person, they're two people."
"Okay, Mama," Jamie said, agreeably, going on with his counting and pointing around the table, until he ended up with himself again.
"Jamie, fork," Steve reminded his youngest son, handing him said fork, so that he could eat his dinner with some semblance of civility.
"Li already seen her," the boy pouted, but the pout was short lived.
"What did she look like?" Martin asked, curiously. "Does she have red hair?"
Lianne shook her head, swallowing her mouthful and taking a drink from her glass before she answered. "She's all scrunched up and red like an angry strawberry and her hair is blonde like Jamie's, only thinner and lighter, and she smells like baby powder."
"All babies smell like baby powder," Martin pointed out, before taking up a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"You remember what the twins looked like when they were born?" Steve asked his children, though his question was mainly aimed at Lianne.
"Was I scrunched up like an angry st'wawberry, Papa?" Jamie asked as he, too, shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth.
"A little bit, Jamie," Steve replied, smiling at the memory of his son's first days of life. "Most babies look like that when they're born."
"But why?" Jamie asked. He was in the "but why" stage of childhood these days, it seemed.
"Because they have to squeeze out, Jamie," Lucy explained, rescuing Steve from a potentially embarrassing conversation. "You know when you squeeze through somewhere and your face gets red because of the effort you made" It's almost exactly the same thing, but a newborn baby's body takes a couple of weeks to recover from being born."
Lianne licked her fork, looking over at Martin. "Auntie Nat's all skinny again, too."
"That's because the baby isn't inside her anymore," Martin reasoned, logically, though there was actually a little more to it than that.
In the meantime, Jamie was still puzzling over his mother's explanation. "But where'd the baby get squeezed out of?" he asked, wondering if the process was a little like pooping, but that didn't seem right, for some reason.
Steve smirked, but said nothing, gesturing to Lucy with his fork to field that question.
Lucy bit her lip, trying not to laugh before she answered Janie's question. She had discovered that answering fully more often than not made him stop asking, just in case the answers got worse. "You remember when the twins were in my tummy?" she asked her youngest son with affectionate amusement. "I had to squeeze them out one by one through a special hole between my legs."
Dinner time in the Rogers' household was often chaotic, but it was organized chaos. With a family of seven, the kids had their fair share of chores, which consisted mainly of setting the table and feeding their various pets. The older children helped the younger children, and except for some occasional grumbling and minor disagreements, dinner time usually ran like a charm. Steve and Lucy wouldn't really have it any other way, and though they weren't strict disciplinarians, the children seemed mostly happy to cooperate. Still, a new baby right next door was an exciting event and had even the smallest of the Rogers' children excited.
"Jamie," Steve said, for perhaps the fifth time. "Use your fork, son. You're making a mess."
Steve was right - there was a lot of mess tonight, and it was entirely because everyone was over-excited. "All right," Lucy suddenly announced. "Everyone stop eating and put your hands on the table." She demonstrated, making eye contact with each of the children until they actually did it. Even the twins made a creditable attempt, wide-eyed and grinning at Mama's sudden assertive calm. "Now," Lucy said in as soothing a tone as she could manage, "we are going to sit silently for one minute and imagine all that twitchy energy dribbling out of us through our toes."
"But Mama, I'm using a fork!" Martin pointed out helpfully, holding up said fork to make his point. He was the eldest, after all, at nearly eleven years old and thought he should be exempt from scolding.
"Mama said everyone, Martin," Steve reminded his son, setting an example by putting his fork down and setting his hands obediently on the table.
Lucy smiled at her eldest reassuringly. They'd talked about things like this, that she needed him to go along with her in front of his siblings more often than not. "All right, smalls," she declared. "Take a deep breath in through your nose, and let it out through your mouth, and dribble all that energy into the floor for me."
"When can we go see baby Lia?" Jamie asked, as he wiggled in his seat, clearly more than a little over-excited. "She's got aw'most the same name as you, Li!" he declared with a grin, despite his mother's directions.
"Jamie, are you listening to your mother?" Steve asked, gently. Martin nudged his brother's arm, who blinked in surprise and turned his attention to Lucy.
"Oh, sorry, Mama," he said, rubbing his nose instead of taking a deep breath through it.
Lianne shushed her brother at the same time as everyone else seemed to, beaming across the table at him. The twins, on the other hand ....Sarah was inspecting a fascinating bit of mashed potato on her palm, and Natalia was scratching her head with her spoon, but they were both quiet, so that was good enough.
Lucy chuckled softly, letting Jamie calm down a little bit. "All right, are we all calm?" she asked quietly. "We'll go and visit Colin and Nat tomorrow, but not all at once. There are a lot of us, you know."
"There's seven of us!" Jamie declared with a grin. "See" One, two, t'ree ..." he started, pointing at each one at the table in turn. "Do the twins count as one or two?" he asked, uncertainly, wrinkling his nose in confusion.
"Two, darling," Lucy assured him, signaling that everyone could start eating again now things seemed to have calmed down. "They're not one person, they're two people."
"Okay, Mama," Jamie said, agreeably, going on with his counting and pointing around the table, until he ended up with himself again.
"Jamie, fork," Steve reminded his youngest son, handing him said fork, so that he could eat his dinner with some semblance of civility.
"Li already seen her," the boy pouted, but the pout was short lived.
"What did she look like?" Martin asked, curiously. "Does she have red hair?"
Lianne shook her head, swallowing her mouthful and taking a drink from her glass before she answered. "She's all scrunched up and red like an angry strawberry and her hair is blonde like Jamie's, only thinner and lighter, and she smells like baby powder."
"All babies smell like baby powder," Martin pointed out, before taking up a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"You remember what the twins looked like when they were born?" Steve asked his children, though his question was mainly aimed at Lianne.
"Was I scrunched up like an angry st'wawberry, Papa?" Jamie asked as he, too, shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth.
"A little bit, Jamie," Steve replied, smiling at the memory of his son's first days of life. "Most babies look like that when they're born."
"But why?" Jamie asked. He was in the "but why" stage of childhood these days, it seemed.
"Because they have to squeeze out, Jamie," Lucy explained, rescuing Steve from a potentially embarrassing conversation. "You know when you squeeze through somewhere and your face gets red because of the effort you made" It's almost exactly the same thing, but a newborn baby's body takes a couple of weeks to recover from being born."
Lianne licked her fork, looking over at Martin. "Auntie Nat's all skinny again, too."
"That's because the baby isn't inside her anymore," Martin reasoned, logically, though there was actually a little more to it than that.
In the meantime, Jamie was still puzzling over his mother's explanation. "But where'd the baby get squeezed out of?" he asked, wondering if the process was a little like pooping, but that didn't seem right, for some reason.
Steve smirked, but said nothing, gesturing to Lucy with his fork to field that question.
Lucy bit her lip, trying not to laugh before she answered Janie's question. She had discovered that answering fully more often than not made him stop asking, just in case the answers got worse. "You remember when the twins were in my tummy?" she asked her youngest son with affectionate amusement. "I had to squeeze them out one by one through a special hole between my legs."