Mercy had thick hair like her mother though it was barely shoulder length and it was snarled every morning. She was patient for one so young, but Kid's doing the brushing often end up in tears for Mercy, and him too if he wanted to be honest.
The humidity that was gathering for the coming rain made it frizzier and even more tangled than usual. That should have been a warning to him about how the day was going to go.
"If it was up to me, we'd cut it all off, but your mother would kill me," he said in way of apology when he was finished setting it to right.
As he washed up the breakfast dishes later that morning, he noticed it was quiet. Too quiet. That was never a good sign when Mercy was awake anymore. It meant she was too occupied to be engaged in regular play.
He dried his hands on his pants as he hurried to see what it was this time. He found her in the living room.
She'd taken off with the basket of eggs without his noticing and sat in the middle of the floor breaking them open and playing with the resulting mess. The yolk was all in her hair. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying rubbing it into her hair like it was some kind of soap.
She was going to need a bath and the sooner the better, which meant he was going to be brushing her hair all over again. "Mercy, why? Why?"
She looked up at him the picture of innocence. And in truth, she had no idea what she'd done. She was only exploring the world though that exploration led to trouble more often than not.
He separated her from the basket before she broke the few eggs left. Boy, was she a mess, he realized afresh with her in his arms. The egg goop was getting on his clothes now, which meant more laundry. The situation would be a little funny if not for the added work it was going to cause him, not to mention the loss of the eggs.
He was in the process of carrying her to the wooden tub they used for dishes and laundry for her bath when he thought of Ruth. She might like to see this first.
He opened the bedroom door. "Take a look at your daughter."
Ruth looked up and smiled a small smile at the sight. It wasn't a deep belly-aching laugh like it might have been before, but it was probably the first real smile he'd seen on her since their loss. Mercy could crack open a 100 more eggs if it'd make Ruth smile again.
The smile flitted away as quickly as it had appeared. "She'll need a bath, won't she? Can you take care of it? I've got to get these letters written."
He wasn't fooled. Maybe she was writing letters, but it wasn't so pressing that it came above everything else. It was another way to hide. "I was planning on it. I just wanted to show you what you're missing."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just write your letters."
Later, sometime after dinner, he was sweeping up the mess he'd made in the kitchen. There was flour all over the floor, as a matter of fact fact, he wouldn't be surprised if more had made it onto the floor than into the bowl. Though he'd ended up with biscuits in the end, it was clear his talents didn't lay in the kitchen.
He sighed when he saw there were bits of dough stuck to the wall. How did Ruth cook without making a mess? It was as big a mystery to him as how to comb a little girl's hair.
His broom stopped midsweep. Again there was that telling quiet, so he went to investigate.
This time he found brightly colored yarn unraveled and thrown everywhere like a giant spider web, not one of the pretty ones, but a messy cobweb, and Mercy was wrapped up in some of it not unlike a caught fly.
He hoped Ruth didn't have any plans to knit anytime soon. It would take days to get all the yarn detangled, he thought to himself as he freed Mercy.
"I guess we need to do a better job of putting up things you shouldn't be messing with, huh?"
He looked down at the pile of tangled yarn again and then sighed. "You're not making this very easy on your daddy."
"I sorry."
He smiled. It wasn't possible to stay annoyed after so adorable an apology. "You're lucky you're cute, but I think somebody's ready for bed."
2 big disasters and countless little ones in just one day from messy diapers to spilled bath water. This was fast becoming tiresome after 2 weeks. He felt dead on his feet. He couldn't do it all though he knew some parents did after they'd lost a spouse, but he hadn't lost his. And they were getting low on funds. He needed to go find some odd jobs or a reward poster. Ruth need to help more out more.
He could give her a few more days to collect herself and then what? Truth was he had no idea what to do if she didn't get it together, but something had to be done. Something had to give. And soon.
