"Peter, I'm back from the store." Finland called out.
"Did you get me those Swedish candies I like?" Sealand asked, as he ran into the kitchen.
"Yes, but they are for after dinner." Finland replied, as he put them in the candy jar on the top shelf.
"No fair." Sealand complained.
"Dinner is only two hours away." Finland said, as he ruffled the little nation's hair. "I have some very important work to do, so can you play quietly until dinner time?"
"Yes." Sealand brooded.
"Thank you." he said, exiting the kitchen. "By the way, don't touch the bottle of olive oil on the counter, I need it for dinner."
"Don't touch the olive oil." Sealand mocked once he knew Finland was out of earshot.
Why can't I touch it? he though. He poked the bottle. See, nothing happened. What is olive oil anyway? He poked the bottle again. And again.
And again, this time the bottle fell off the counter and broke the lid, making a small spill on the floor.
"Oh, no! Mama will be so mad!" Sealand said, as he made a mad dash for paper towels.
He tried his best to clean it up, but it just kept smearing and making a bigger mess.
"What is this?!" Sealand grumbled. He wiped his hand through the spill and felt it between his fingers. "It's slimy and it smells funny."
In need of more paper towels, he stood up to get some. Accidentally stepping in the mess, he slipped and fell back down onto the floor. Rather than being hurt, he found it amusing. He tried it again and the same thing occurred.
"It's like a water slide, but slimier." Sealand giggled.
He poured the rest of the olive oil out on the floor down the length of the kitchen. He got a head start and dove down onto the olive oil, and slid down the kitchen floor stopping just short of the kitchen table. He stood up, ran back to the beginning and did it again, stopping just short of the table. He jumped up to do it once more, this time taking a longer running start. He slid straight into the kitchen chairs, toppling them over noisily, and the table followed suit.
Sealand heard the office door fly open.
"Peter!"
Uh oh...
Finland appeared from the hallway.
"Peter, what did you do?!" he shouted. "Is that the olive oil?"
"No..." Sealand lied poorly. He was covered from head to toe in the slimy substance.
"Don't lie, Peter." Finland said, as he crossed his arms. "I told you not to touch it."
"I'm sorry." Seland said, trying his best to tug at his slippery shirt.
Finland sighed.
"I have a lot of work to do, so I'll let this slide." he said.
"Really?" Sealand asked. "Thank you, Mama!"
"But you have to get in the bathtub right this minute and wash off." he stated, grabbing hold of Sealand's slippery arm.
"No! I don't want to bathe!" Sealand said, as he slipped himself out of Finland's grasp.
"Sealand! Listen to me!" Finland said, catching the back of his shirt only to Sealand slip away again.
Sealand found the fact that he couldn't grasp him to be quite amusing. Every time Finland got a hold on him, he easily slipped right out of it again. At this point, Sealand had run for the kitchen door. Finland follow him, only to slip in the oil slick on the floor. He recovered quickly and carefully went after his son.
Sealand, already out the door and halfway down the yard, heard Finland call him in a serious tone of voice.
"Peter, do you want me to take your candy away?" he called.
Sealand stopped dead in his tracks.
"You know I'm going to have to tell Daddy what a bad boy you were today." Finland said. "He's going to punish you."
"No! Don't tell Daddy!" Sealand replied. Any punishment Finland gives is ten times better than disappointing Sweden. "Please, I'll be good."
"Will you take your bath?"
"Yes." Sealand agreed.
"Come on, then." Finland said, as he took the little nation's slimy hand in his own.
They walked to the bathroom and Finland filled the tub. HE peeled Sealand out of his clothes, before pulling off his own, now slime-coated clothing. They both got in and Finland set to scrubbing the oil off Sealand's body, Sealand staying silent the whole time.
"Peter, you've been awfully quiet. Are you alright?" Finland asked.
"I'm really sorry, Mama." Sealand said, as he turned to face him.
"It's alright, Peter." he soothed.
"Are you still going to tell Daddy?" he asked, teary-eyed.
"I'll tell you what. If you promise to never play with the olive oil again, I promise not to tell Daddy, okay?"
"I promise." Sealand said, "I won't touch it anymore, and I promise to listen from now on."
"Good boy." Finland said. "You're not allowed to have your candy until after lunch tomorrow as punishment."
"Okay." Sealand agreed.
"Alright, now let me wash your hair."