Author's note: Alright, chapter two...I adjusted the formatting a bit so it looks better and is easier to read. I wish I could get the word documents to look right but alas *sighs dramatically* And the story goes on...
Raising Clark: Chapter 2
The alarm clock buzzed at 4:30 in the morning as usual and Martha ground and rolled over, waiting or Jonathan to get up, turn it off and start getting ready for the day before waking her up. Only, this time, Jonathan didn't turn the alarm off. "Jonathan," she muttered, sitting up awkwardly. But the other side of the bed was empty. Sighing, she leaned across the bed and turned off the alarm and then lay there listlessly stretched out across the bed for a moment. That was the worst thing about farm work: the whole getting up when the rooster crowed. Actually, now that it was fall, it was more like getting up before the rooster but no matter. "Better go find him," Martha mumbled and lazily pulled herself out of bed and headed out into the hall.
See the door to Clark's room ajar, she paused and looked in. There, sitting by the bed, his hand in Clark's, was Jonathan. Smiling, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing him on the cheek. Startled, he jumped awake. "Whu?"
"Good morning," she said playfully.
"Oh, yeah," Jonathan said, rubbing his face. "What time is it?"
"A little past four-thirty. You didn't turn the alarm off, so I had to get up."
"Poor you."
"I know. So what brough you here?"
"Oh, Clark woke me up last night when he went downstairs and he wouldn't let me leave when I put him back to bed." He looked away from Clark and looked at his wife. "Martha, he's learning how to talk."
"What, just now?"
"Yeah, he started watching my lips last night. Like the thought of moving them to talk had never actually occured to him."
Martha gazed down at Clark. "What can he say?"
"Well, so far 'Clark' and 'Daddy'."
Martha laughed. "Couldn't help it could you?"
"If I'd told him my name was Jonathan, he would have called me that. Besides, we have the papers. He's officially our adopted son."
"I know, I know. So were you planning on taking your son out with you and working on the farm anytime today or were you just going to let him hang around the house everyday?"
"Hmm...actually, hanging around the house doesn't sound like a bad..." he changed vains at Martha's facial expression. "Alright, alright, I'll go outside and I'll take little guy here with me when he wakes up."
****
After he had eaten, Martha promptly sent Clark out to the barn where Jonathan was. He'd already gained about 20 more words and, from Martha's looks, it was easier for him than for the parent: the entire day, his appetite for new words was insatiable. He knew who Mommy and Daddy were and quickly picked up on the fact that to each other, they were "Martha" and "Jonathan", that sometimes he was called simply, "son" or "kid", and didn't seem to mind. But what did bother him was seeing all the cows. When Jonathan took Clark to the pasture where the cows grazed, Clark pointed eagerly at the nearest cow and Jonathan told him, "That's a cow, Clark."
"Cow," Clark repeated and with confidence, he moved onto the next cow and pointed at it.
"Cow." Jonathan repeated. This time there was a note of hesitation in Clark's voice. "Cow?" He looked puzzled and his confusion became full.fledged when Jonathan again told him that even a cow that looked completly different from the other two was still called a cow. "Yes, that's a cow, Clark. Apart from a few bulls, they're all cows. Together we call them cattle." Jonathan emphasized the last word and knew he should have realized this explanation would be too much: Clark stared at him blankly. "Okay, fine, let's try it this way: one cow," Jonathan said, pointing at the first one. Then, pointing at the second one and the first one, he said, "Two cows." Clark seemed to understand the concept of plurals so Jonathan decided to make the quantum leap: he gestured broadly at the entire herd: "Cattle," he said.
Clark stared at the unknown quantity before him. Had this been math class, Clark would have been expected to go from simple counting to the concept of infinity in a matter of a few seconds. But, he simply pointed calmly at the first cow and said, "Cow," pointed at two of them and said, "Cows," then pointed at them all and said, "Cattle."
The concept, afterall, was not an entirely new one to Clark. It was only the words that seemed to be different, Jonathan realized and decided that that was enough vocabulary for the moment.
But once Clark started learning words, it was as if a dam had broken and the Kents were left trying to swim in it. His disappointment about the cows was only amplified when he found out that all things with four wheels and a motor were cars, but Jonathan quickly found a solution to this: bedtime stories became the latest books on car models and Clark began to learn how to identify nearly every model of car and truck.
"I think we should wait a while before letting Clark go to school," Martha told Jonathan one evening after they'd put Clark to bed.
"Well, of course, he's only, what, around three? Most kids don't start kindergarten 'til they're five at least."
"No, I mean later than that. His speech still needs a lot of work."
"Come on, Martha, he's picking up words faster than most, well, normal kids do."
"Yes, he'll be the only one in pre-school who can tell the difference between a chevy cavalier and a Honda civic," Martha responded dryly.
Jonathan smiled proudly. "Gifted little kid, isn't he?"
Martha just shook her head and let the conversation drop.
Raising Clark: Chapter 2
The alarm clock buzzed at 4:30 in the morning as usual and Martha ground and rolled over, waiting or Jonathan to get up, turn it off and start getting ready for the day before waking her up. Only, this time, Jonathan didn't turn the alarm off. "Jonathan," she muttered, sitting up awkwardly. But the other side of the bed was empty. Sighing, she leaned across the bed and turned off the alarm and then lay there listlessly stretched out across the bed for a moment. That was the worst thing about farm work: the whole getting up when the rooster crowed. Actually, now that it was fall, it was more like getting up before the rooster but no matter. "Better go find him," Martha mumbled and lazily pulled herself out of bed and headed out into the hall.
See the door to Clark's room ajar, she paused and looked in. There, sitting by the bed, his hand in Clark's, was Jonathan. Smiling, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing him on the cheek. Startled, he jumped awake. "Whu?"
"Good morning," she said playfully.
"Oh, yeah," Jonathan said, rubbing his face. "What time is it?"
"A little past four-thirty. You didn't turn the alarm off, so I had to get up."
"Poor you."
"I know. So what brough you here?"
"Oh, Clark woke me up last night when he went downstairs and he wouldn't let me leave when I put him back to bed." He looked away from Clark and looked at his wife. "Martha, he's learning how to talk."
"What, just now?"
"Yeah, he started watching my lips last night. Like the thought of moving them to talk had never actually occured to him."
Martha gazed down at Clark. "What can he say?"
"Well, so far 'Clark' and 'Daddy'."
Martha laughed. "Couldn't help it could you?"
"If I'd told him my name was Jonathan, he would have called me that. Besides, we have the papers. He's officially our adopted son."
"I know, I know. So were you planning on taking your son out with you and working on the farm anytime today or were you just going to let him hang around the house everyday?"
"Hmm...actually, hanging around the house doesn't sound like a bad..." he changed vains at Martha's facial expression. "Alright, alright, I'll go outside and I'll take little guy here with me when he wakes up."
****
After he had eaten, Martha promptly sent Clark out to the barn where Jonathan was. He'd already gained about 20 more words and, from Martha's looks, it was easier for him than for the parent: the entire day, his appetite for new words was insatiable. He knew who Mommy and Daddy were and quickly picked up on the fact that to each other, they were "Martha" and "Jonathan", that sometimes he was called simply, "son" or "kid", and didn't seem to mind. But what did bother him was seeing all the cows. When Jonathan took Clark to the pasture where the cows grazed, Clark pointed eagerly at the nearest cow and Jonathan told him, "That's a cow, Clark."
"Cow," Clark repeated and with confidence, he moved onto the next cow and pointed at it.
"Cow." Jonathan repeated. This time there was a note of hesitation in Clark's voice. "Cow?" He looked puzzled and his confusion became full.fledged when Jonathan again told him that even a cow that looked completly different from the other two was still called a cow. "Yes, that's a cow, Clark. Apart from a few bulls, they're all cows. Together we call them cattle." Jonathan emphasized the last word and knew he should have realized this explanation would be too much: Clark stared at him blankly. "Okay, fine, let's try it this way: one cow," Jonathan said, pointing at the first one. Then, pointing at the second one and the first one, he said, "Two cows." Clark seemed to understand the concept of plurals so Jonathan decided to make the quantum leap: he gestured broadly at the entire herd: "Cattle," he said.
Clark stared at the unknown quantity before him. Had this been math class, Clark would have been expected to go from simple counting to the concept of infinity in a matter of a few seconds. But, he simply pointed calmly at the first cow and said, "Cow," pointed at two of them and said, "Cows," then pointed at them all and said, "Cattle."
The concept, afterall, was not an entirely new one to Clark. It was only the words that seemed to be different, Jonathan realized and decided that that was enough vocabulary for the moment.
But once Clark started learning words, it was as if a dam had broken and the Kents were left trying to swim in it. His disappointment about the cows was only amplified when he found out that all things with four wheels and a motor were cars, but Jonathan quickly found a solution to this: bedtime stories became the latest books on car models and Clark began to learn how to identify nearly every model of car and truck.
"I think we should wait a while before letting Clark go to school," Martha told Jonathan one evening after they'd put Clark to bed.
"Well, of course, he's only, what, around three? Most kids don't start kindergarten 'til they're five at least."
"No, I mean later than that. His speech still needs a lot of work."
"Come on, Martha, he's picking up words faster than most, well, normal kids do."
"Yes, he'll be the only one in pre-school who can tell the difference between a chevy cavalier and a Honda civic," Martha responded dryly.
Jonathan smiled proudly. "Gifted little kid, isn't he?"
Martha just shook her head and let the conversation drop.