Working in a nursery does help give an insight into how babies/toddlers behave so hopefully I have done Baby Dudley some justice.


DRABBLE ONE: COOKIES

Dudley Vernon Dursley, all of sixteen months old, sat in his pale blue highchair, his wide blue eyes focussing onto his mother. Petunia Dursley, the bags under her eyes making her look older than her twenty four years, cracked eggs into a saucepan. Her eyes flickered to the sizzling bacon, frying in another pan, then over to her precious baby boy. Dudley was squirming in his highchair, dressed in a bright yellow t-shirt with a pair of striped white and black shorts, his feet bare. Fortunately the undersides of his feet were clean as she had carried him from his cot, downstairs to the kitchen table. She was notorious around Little Whinging for keeping a pristine home, and hopefully soon, the same could be said in relation to her child. Petunia flashed a megawatt smile at her son, cooing:

"I'm cooking Daddy's breakfast, cherub. Then I'll get you a banana. Would you like that? With apple sauce?"

Dudley nodded. "Yeah!"

Petunia's heart melted at the squeal, turning back to the stove to poke the bacon and continue frying the egg. Dudley smacked his lips as he stared around the open room. Sometimes, the television would be blaring in the background, but his father hadn't come downstairs yet so it was off, meaning Dudley had to amuse himself some other way. With his mother's main attention on the food, she missed the eagle eyed zeroing in on the plate of cookies that were situated on one of the counters near the kitchen table. The chocolate chip cookies were one of Vernon's favourite treats and Petunia felt it was her duty to provide her husband with a bit of relief after a tough Monday that he was apt to have, after relaxing on the weekend. The five cookies made Dudley drool, coating his chin and the front of his shirt. He reached out a chubby fist, but the cookies were too far away and his fist slammed onto the tray in defeat.

He gurgled, calling out "Mummy!", but his mother was currently serving up the food onto a plate and humming to herself, distracted. Dudley pouted, wanting the cookies so badly, but he needed his mother to give them to him!

Suddenly, his father shouted from upstairs, obviously requiring help from his mother. Turning off the stove, Petunia beamed brightly at her baby before nipping upstairs, leaving Dudley alone in the kitchen with the cookies. He fussed and kicked his little feet, mouth watering. There was only one way to get those cookies and it involved getting out of the highchair without falling to certain pain. In his developing mind, his mission was to grab the cookies and consume them, all before his parents came downstairs. Hands grabbing the loose straps, Dudley realised that he wasn't strapped in and his face lit up. Slowly, he let go of the straps and balancing his palms on the tray, he unsteadily rose to his feet, his toes wriggling on the seat of the highchair. The next few minutes were of him crawling on top of the tray and clumsily tumbling onto the kitchen table, sprawling in a heap on the patterned tablecloth. Tears sprung to his eyes, but the following wails would ensure his mother come rushing to help him and his venture for the cookies would be thwarted, so Dudley pushed on, keeping silent. He crawled across the table, pudgy fingers reaching out for the cookies as he neared the counter they were resting on.

"DUDDY! What are you doing?!"

Dudley jerked in shock, hands flying down to steady himself as he turned his head to face his parents. His mother, white with shock, was clasping the front of her apron whilst his father, tie askew, moved his eye line from his son to the cookies then back again.

Screwing up his eyes, Dudley burst into a loud fit of wailing, jabbing his finger in the direction of the cookies. Instantly, concern was washed away as Petunia hurried over and scooped him up into her arms.

"Aww, sweetie, did you want cookies? Because you've been such a good boy this morning, I'll let you have one, but you must be careful Duddy, don't go climbing the furniture. You might hurt yourself."

Dudley reached out for the cookies in impatience, in the process rubbing his drool stained shirt against his mother's immaculate apron. Petunia wrinkled her nose in distaste at the stain, but the disgust changed to happiness when she handed Dudley one of the cookies from the plate. He shoved it into his mouth, Petunia holding him securely and watching intently in case he choked. Vernon fixed his tie in the background, nodding proudly.

"Little tyke knows what he wants. Just for that, let him have another one, Pet."

His wife simpered, eyes welling up with happy tears at their adorable son. "Of course, dear."

As soon as the cookie was finished, Dudley was handed another one, which he shoved into his mouth. He crammed the cookie in between bites, then spewed out a mouthful of crumbs.

"More!"

He ended up sitting in his highchair, polishing off all of the cookies with delight as his mother bade his father farewell at the front door.