Her brown eyes narrowed in anger, Laura Barton glared at the objects of her wrath. They lay there, taunting her. Mocking her. It was too much to handle.
"Clint" She hissed through her teeth, turning to direct her gaze at her husband.
He just lay there on their living room couch, cracked one eye open and grunted.
Laura grabbed the offending objects in one sweeping motion, grimaced, and threw both of them straight at her husbands face.
He caught both of them easily, his reflexes not even dulled by sleep. "Honey" he mumbled, opening both his eyes to look at what he had caught.
It was his black socks. The ones he had worn during his daily run in the woods. He took a experimental sniff. Yep, definitely the ones he wore during his run.
"Ew, Clint, why do you even smell them?" Disgust was clear on her face. Her eyes narrowed even further. " THOSE," she pointed at it accusingly, "are the ones you wore this morning and WHY didn't you put them in the laundry basket?"
Clint sighed theatrically. "The laundry basket is too far and I'm tired." He grouched, " my arms are weak and puny." He flopped his wrists pitifully, resembling a baby T-Rex, and pouted.
Laura sighed and changed her tactic, knowing her anger was there because of her lack of sleep. Baby Cooper was teething again and she was up at night trying to soothe a poor baby that had no idea why there was pain in his mouth.
"I don't want Cooper to start sucking on your nasty, wet, bacteria infested socks." She reasoned, pushing down her anger.
Clint thought about that for a second, then gave her a wry grin. He folded the socks together into a ball, looked toward the laundry room then swiftly brought his arm back and threw the socks away from the laundry room. They soared through the air, bounced off the blue lamp shade, ricocheted off the wall, hit the corner of the desk, flipped into the laundry room and rolled off the washing machine straight into the laundry basket.
Clint's smug grin suddenly turned to horror as the blue lamp wobbled and slowly tipped over.
He made a flying leap off the couch, arms outstretched. The lamp flipped as it tumbled off the cupboard and landed neatly in Clint's arms.
Unfortunately, the cord attached to the lamp caused a chain reaction of events that swept the cup of loose change off the cupboard as well.
Laura, not being a highly trained S.H.E.I.L.D agent with years of honed reflexes, watched in horror as the cup swept off the opposite end of the cupboard, and landed, shattering on the floor with a tremendous noise, coins flew in every direction.
Both set of eyes cringed, turning their heads in unison toward the bedroom door. The frightened scream of a baby followed a heart beat later.
Laura closed her eyes and breathed out, not realizing she had held it. "I'll go get him up," she said, adrenaline still coursing through her as she made her way around the mess, stepping over her husband to go comfort her bawling baby.
"Uh, I'll grab the broom." Clint said sheepishly getting up off the floor and brushed powdered porcelain off of his shoulders.
"Next time," Laura called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall "just put them in the laundry basket like a normal person".