Hi. This is a new idea I had. I hope you like it. It's just going to be FACE family moments, so you know it'll be good.
I tried so hard to make the grammar perfect, but we all know that can never happen, so if you see any mistakes tell me. I hate to read mistakes, they turn me into a total Grammar Nazi. Tell me and I'll correct any errors. Even if they're not grammar. If they are misinterpreted personalities or something, please tell me.
I would love to get reviews on this chapter, it would really encourage me to write more, faster. Thank you! :)
Disclaimer: I have yet to take control over the anime, but I have not to given up.
Chapter 1: Hamburgers Save Lives
"I'm going to start making dinner, do you mind watching the kids?"
"Of course not."
"Are you sure?"
"What? Would you rather I make dinner? I'm completely capable of watching over two infants for a short time while you cook. Okay? Calm yourself. How hard can watching them be? They're asleep for Christ's sake!"
"Ok..." Francis said apprehensively, slowing walking towards the kitchen. "If you need help, please, don't be afraid to ask."
"If I need help? Get real, Frenchie. I get that this is hard for most people, but I'm an Englishman. There isn't a task in the world that I can't accomplish. Besides, everyone says that the hardest part about raising kids is their crying. I guess we lucked out with Alfred and Matthew because they're nothing short of angels. So go cook your little meal, Frenchman, that's about all you're good for."Arthur said watching Francis walk into the kitchen.
Francis looked over his shoulder at Arthur. "Well, that and at least one other thing that I can think of." Arthur blushed a bit, but it's not like he'd ever let Francis see that. He quickly turned around and went to the living room to watch the kids.
After about 5 minutes of simply staring at his children doing absolutely nothing, Arthur took out his iPod, put on his headphones, and started playing Candy Crush. He wasn't really one for playing games; in fact, he would usually choose a good book instead any day, but Gilbert had challenged him to the game, stating that only the "awesome" can win. The east German was claiming that it takes strategy and intelligence. As if. Arthur thought as he started the game. If Gilbert can beat it then so I can I.
Arthur got to level 27 before becoming utterly stuck. Normally, he would stop for a while, then come back and pass the level, but this one was particularly devious. However, Gilbert called it one of the easiest of them all because there was only a time limit. All one had to do was wildly touch the screen and accumulate as many points as possible. As a man of my intelligence, I shouldn't have to abide by a time limit! I don't like to randomly swipe things and hope for points. I have to think it through properly, dammit! This was the third day Arthur was on that level. Just as Arthur started the game up again, Alfred slowly opened his blue eyes in his crib. After turning his head around to survey his surroundings, Alfred decided that his best course of action would be to start screaming. Arthur tried to ignore the offending sound and continued with his game. Of all the times this kid could've cried, he chooses now?
"Is something wrong?" Francis asked from the kitchen, his voice dripping with concern.
"No, I've got everything under control!" Arthur said, even though he wasn't planning on doing anything until he used up all the time in the time limit set for the level. Ten seconds passed and the baby's cry only increased in volume.
"Is that Alfred crying?"
"Yeah, just give me a second. I'll to get him in a moment." Another five seconds passed and this kid was quickly turning from a human to a banshee.
"Do you need any help?"
"No, I'm fine." Arthur responded immediately getting another combo in his game. Half of the time limit had already passed, so he only had 30 seconds left of his round before he could go quiet his child. If things continued as they were, Arthur was sure he could beat the game.
I swear this kid has never once cried until today. Will he just stop already?
"Just pick him up." Francis whined from the kitchen. "If you don't know how I can show you, just don't leave him crying like that mon dieu."
"You know if you pick kids up too fast you spoil them? Is that what you're trying to do? Make our child totally dependent on others?" Arthur glanced back down at his time limit. He only had 25 seconds left.
"That's only applicable if the baby is older than six months old, you know that. Now, are you going to pick him up or not?"
"Just let me beat this level."
"Beat the level? Are you insane? This is a child's life you're talking about. Your child. Our child. Play the damn game later!"
"He's not going to die from waiting a couple of seconds, ok? I'm almost done, so sod off!" Twenty seconds.
"You know damn well that if I tried to pull this kind of stunt, you'd have my head on a stick! Enough of your shit already, Arthur, pick up the kid!"
"First off, watch your language."
"You're the one who started it."
"No matter, he won't remember anyway." Fifteen seconds.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Aren't you supposed to be the level-headed one?"
"Secondly, that just goes to show how little you know about me. I would never kill you. I need someone to cook and change diapers. Maybe when I can afford a personal chef and the kids are off in college..." Alfred's cries got even louder, only God knows how, and now Matthew began to stir.
"Merde, just pick him up!" Francis would have done it himself a while ago, but his hands were far too dirty from cooking. Five seconds.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnd, done." Arthur stated triumphantly as he dropped the game in his hands and replaced it with his son. Arthur started to walk around in circles so the baby could finally quiet down. "See? Everything's dandy. You got your knickers in a twist for naught."
"Whatever you say, just keep walking until he falls back asleep." Francis said whilst chopping carrots.
After about five minutes the weight of the infant seemed to increase at an exponential rate. I can't possibly be so out of shape that holding a fifteen pound baby is this hard. It's my imagination; besides how long until this guy falls asleep? In the next two minutes Alfred fell asleep. His head was tucked into Arthur's chest and his hands were balled up into miniature fists. It was adorable. As Arthur put him in his crib, the baby began to squirm. Less adorable. Arthur put the child back into its previous position in his arms and began to move again.
Nearly twenty minutes later Arthur was pondering the height at which a baby could fall from and live. Surely someone must know. They wouldn't necessarily have to had tested it out, but it seems quite impossible that not one person on Earth knew how high of a fall a baby could take. At this point, the baby was quite heavy. I'm going to drop him. If no one knows, then I'll be the first. I mean, we have the other one right? If I keep them in two separate rooms at all times, then I can claim Matthew as both children. Francis will never know. Arthur debated as he continued to walk back and forth. Who needs two kids anyway? This one's a demon in any event. I mean, if you close your eyes for a short while, that's called blinking. But who keeps them closed for minutes, then when finally put to bed, shoots them open? How can he even tell that I put him down? Damn, this guy is far too heavy to only be a baby! My arms are going to fall off. Where on Earth is Francis?
"Hey, Frog! What the bloody Hell is taking you so long?"
"What? Can't handle the kids, eh?"
"I can to! But it, ah, shouldn't be taking this long to cook dinner."
"Well, I'm almost done. It normally doesn't take you that long because you don't worry about things you deem trivial, such as I don't know: taste, or edibility, or whether or not you'll die from eating it."
"ONE BLOODY TIME AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T LET IT GO! I SAID I WAS SORRY!"
"I had to spend a week in the hospital."
"Which is why only you cook from now on okay, I get it."
"You nearly killed me. I had to get my stomach pumped, twice."
"Do you know what's going to happen if you keep focusing on insignificant details like that? Hmm? You'll get worry lines, then you won't even have your looks, just your smug attitude."
"You think I'm handsome?"
"THAT'S WHAT YOU FOCUS ON? I swear I could spend all day giving you backhanded compliments and you wouldn't even care. I could probably insult you for hours, picking out every one of your flaws, but then say one nice thing at the end and you wouldn't even care."
"I didn't hear you deny it."
"Just hurry up and take your kid already. He weighs like a million pounds!"
"He's a baby. He doesn't weigh more than sixteen pounds. Are you really that out of shape that you can't hold a fifteen pound baby?"
"Not everyone lives at the gym like you, Mr. All-I-Have-To-Do-Is-Smile-And-People-Throw-Money-A t-Me."
"That's what models do. I have to work though. You just sit on your computer all day. If you're not typing, then you're criticizing others. That hardly sounds like a challenge!"
"Here we go again. I'm an editor. I am suppose to critique the writing of others."
"Well you don't have to look like you're having so much fun. I swear every time you take a red pen to paper you seem like a kid on Christmas Day. You were depressed for a week after you went through a novel with almost no mistakes."
"Fucking J.K. Rowling, who the Hell does she think she is..." Arthur mumbled to himself. Alfred shifted in his arms again. "Will you just take the stupid baby?! My arms are going to give out!"
Francis walked from the kitchen to living room where Arthur was making circular track marks in the rug. "The food should be done in a minute."
"Good, take Alfred."
"You seriously can't hold him any longer?"
"No, now take the baby."
"I've been watching them, feeding them, changing them, and cleaning them all by myself. I let you watch him for what?" Francis glanced at his watch. "Twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and all of the sudden it's too much?
"What happened to the great Englishman I met in high school. The one who had the eyebrows of a god?"
"I still do! Sadly I can't carry children on my eyebrows."
"With eyebrows like those, you could carry elephants."
"Shut your face!"
"Well if you can't at least do that, then it's more you have the eyebrows of a small deity, or expert magician."
"Don't you dare mock my eyebrows. Now, take the kid!"
"Non, if you can't carry your kid for half an hour, how can you expect to raise it?"
"You can do that! I'll be moral support. Now take the kid."
"I've seen your moral support, it's the reason you didn't become a teacher."
"What, because I don't believe in awards for last place? If you ask me, if you didn't win then you lose. Back in my day, there wasn't even a second place trophy. Well Alfred, you lost horribly, but at least you played the game. Here's your participation trophy. Like Hell I'd give my son a participation trophy! If he came home with one of those I'd it burn in front of him."
"Yeah, I can definitely see how that encourages people. Go on, you'd be great moral support. I mean if I was a ten year old kid, how can being reprimanded for an hour and watching my award burn in front of my very eyes do anything but boost my morale?"
"I'm glad that you finally understand, now take it already."
"Excuse me?"
"Take Alfred or I'll drop him."
"That's not what you called him a second ago."
"What?"
"You called him an it!"
"Firstly, if you heard, why did you ask me to repeat myself? You're a waste of time. Secondly, so what if I did?"
"He's our son! Not an inanimate object. You of all people should know the English language; after all it was your major. Wouldn't calling a person an it be grammatically incorrect?"
"That is true, technically. Maybe I'll start caring when you start holding him!"
"Are you telling me that you seriously can't hold your own chi- Mon Dieu!" Francis cried wide-eyed as Alfred fell from Arthur's hands. He luckily landed on a thick hamburger shaped pillow which was a gift for Alfred as a sort of insult from Gilbert, as he knows how much Francis hates fast food. The fall couldn't have been more than one foot as Arthur was already hovering over the couch. For a moment, neither Francis nor Arthur spoke. They only watched in shock as their infant rolled over smiling, attempting to hug the pillow as if he comprehended that it had just saved his life.
***Twenty Years Into the Future***
"How can you eat that?" Matthew said with disgust.
"Hmm?" Alfred said with his mouth full of hamburger.
"That's like your tenth one in the past hour. How can you do that?"
"You do the same thing with pancakes."
"Yeah, but people buy pancakes in stacks. You don't buy a stack of hamburgers."
Alfred responded by pointing at a stack wrappers of what used to hold hamburgers.
"NORMAL PEOPLE! Normal people don't buy that many hamburgers. Why do you even like them?"
"I don't know... something about them is … I don't know how to put it. Comforting, like it makes me feel safe. If that makes any sense."