A/N: Hey! This one shot was inspired by the incredible Muchacha11, who drew this amazing sketch:

http: / tinyurl (dot) com / 6fttgll

Get rid of the spaces and replace the (dot) with an actual dot and see the art for yourself!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee.

Kurt stared. His lower lip fell into a small pout as he gazed hard at the top shelf in the kitchen. Atop the shelf sat the object of the seven-year olds desires – a large jar which Kurt knew was filled to the brim with cookies. He knew this because, one, it was always the jar that Daddy opened which was filled with cookies, and two, because Kurt was very smart (Kurt knew this because everyone said so) and could read the word 'cookies' if he sounded it out bit by bit. Looking around, he saw his stool which he sometimes put next to Daddy's when Daddy read him a story, if he wasn't sitting on his lap. Wobbling a little, he set one foot on it and heaved himself on, gulping when the piece of wooden furniture trembled. He had to clutch the edge of the counter until he was sure he was safe. However, he soon came to realise that the stool was just far too small. His face fell with a soft exclamation of "hmph," from his mouth, and he stepped down – carefully. His hands found his hips, and he looked about once more. The dining room chairs were heavy, but he managed to drag one through to the kitchen and settle it down. Kurt wiped his brow. That had been hard work for someone so small, he thought to himself. He climbed up, almost slipping and falling back onto his bottom, but regained his poise and attempted the climb again. Grinning as he stood on the chair, his fingers clasped the edges of the jar. He had to pull slowly so that the jar didn't fall. He was on tiptoes, and stretching so much that he was a little scared he might stretch his body in half. But he eventually held the jar in his pudgy hands, beaming inwardly with self-pride. He sat on the floor and opened it, eyes shining as he took in the piles upon piles of cookies. Chocoloate chip, marshmallow, toffee…his lips smacked together. And so, Kurt began to munch his way down into the jar, crumbs spilling onto the floor, his clothes and his face, chocolate smearing across his cheeks. But Kurt didn't care. His tummy was gradually growing larger, and he was lost in the land of tasty cookies. He made cute humming sounds as he chewed. But what he tried not to notice was the growing feeling of sickness cultivating inside him. He let out a burp and gasped in spite of himself, hand flying to his lips and saying 'pardon' as his cheeks shone with embarrassment, though no one had heard it. Kurt stiffened when the door behind him opened and he heard the undeniable sound of his father's gasp.

"Kurt," Burt sighed when Kurt flicked his head around, revealing his chocolate covered face. "Did you eat them all?"

"No!" Kurt replied indignantly, thrusting his hand inside and producing about five cookies in his small hand. "I saved a bunch for you." Burt rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Oh, kid, look at the mess you've made!" Burt knelt down beside him and rifled his own hand through his son's hair. "There are crumbs everywhere!" Kurt didn't say anything. His hand was on his belly.

"Umm… Daddy? My tummy hurts a lil' bit," he mumbled, letting out a groan and another burp. "Pardon me." Burt scooped the messy boy into his arms.

"That's what you get for eating so many cookies! Why do you think I keep them on such a high shelf?"

"Because then the kitchen pixies can't get them!" Kurt said knowingly. "That's why all the nice food is up there." Burt leant his head back and took in his son's innocent face.

"..Kitchen pixies?" Kurt nodded furiously.
"Yep! In one of my fairytale books, there's a whole story about kitchen pixies! They steal all of the tasty food."

"Think you can find that book, scooter? How about an afternoon story time?" Kurt's face lit up and he clapped his hands together excitedly.
"Oh Daddy!" he squealed. "Quick, put me down! I have to go and find it!" Burt complied and set Kurt down, his son instantly waddling off into the next room, leaving a trail of cookie crumbs behind him in his wake.