Jonathan lifted his hand from his face to see a very worried looking Clark staring up at him. "Daddy?"
"It's okay, Clark, I was just sneezing."
"Sneezing?" Clark must have thought the word sounded funny, since he giggled. Well, you could hardly blame him, it does sound pretty silly, Jonathan decided. "What's sneezing?"
"When things go in your nose, sometimes your nose sneezes, to blow them back out."
"No fingers in noses!" Clark responded, sternly.
"That's right, Clark. But this was some dust that had gotten into my nose. You know how some people laugh when other people tickle them?" Clark nodded. "Sneezing is the way your nose laughs when something tickles it."
"Sneezing's fun?"
Bad comparison, Jonathan told himself. Clark had gotten that "I'm missing out on something" pout that he occasionally got when Martha or Jonathan explained human functions that he didn't seem to have. "No, it just sounds funny."
"Can I sneeze?"
"Well, you haven't yet, but maybe it's something you'll do when you get bigger."
Clark nodded, relatively satisfied, and then the topic changed to the grossness of slugs.
****
Phil Ross had warned them, "Nap time isn't for them, it's for *you.*" Well, he should know, he was Pete's father. Fortunately, Clark was still willing to nap and sometimes cooperated by lying down, wherever he was, the moment somebody announced that it was nap time, so that they'd have to carry him up. Jonathan deposited Clark on his bed and reminded him, "No, you snore *after* you fall asleep."
He could deal just fine with remembering the time that Clark had run into their bedroom, wanting to know what was wrong, why Daddy was making that noise. He didn't even mind that Clark sometimes tried to snore, just like Daddy. What he still held a grudge about was Martha's remembering it and the way she didn't try hard to repress her laughter when she remembered it.
He gave Clark another quick squeeze and went back downstairs. With luck, maybe it would be a couple of hours, since sometimes after he woke up, Clark would quietly play by himself or, more often lately, lie thinking. He and Martha sometimes wondered if Clark had to unlearn things from his home world or his own species, since he certainly seemed to spend a lot of time "just thinking."
Who knows, maybe they could even finish a video. He and Martha both had a thing for the really cheesy low-budget creature horror films, the kind where they could debate over whether the mutated dinosaur crushing cities under its feet was a plastic model or if somebody really did tape green macaroni on an iguana. Martha still jumped at the "scary" bits and that was as good an excuse as any for them to get a bit closer. Having Clark asking what was happening in the movie or what they themselves were doing just didn't bring the same kinds of satisfaction.
A very satisfying hour and a half passed and the mutated dinosaur had just been blown up when they heard the thunk that announced that Clark had jumped off the bed. Jonathan kept an ear open for the sound of his coming downstairs, but the movie drew to its ending, and he and Martha had to discuss whether the dinosaur eggs were really red grapes.
There was an unfamiliar sound, a bump, then the sound of triumphant Clark giggling. After a moment, Jonathan grinned. "I got it, he's trying to sneeze."
"Then what's the bump?"
They exchanged a look that said "better find out" and headed upstairs.
"Look at me sneeze!" Clark sat on the floor, legs crossed, an expression of intense concentration on his face. He took a deep breath and then exploded it through his nose. The force was enough to just barely lift him off the ground.
Okay, another thing to tell Clark not to do around other people. But in the meantime, "Gesundheit." If Clark thought the word "sneeze" was funny, there were plenty more words where that came from.
"It's okay, Clark, I was just sneezing."
"Sneezing?" Clark must have thought the word sounded funny, since he giggled. Well, you could hardly blame him, it does sound pretty silly, Jonathan decided. "What's sneezing?"
"When things go in your nose, sometimes your nose sneezes, to blow them back out."
"No fingers in noses!" Clark responded, sternly.
"That's right, Clark. But this was some dust that had gotten into my nose. You know how some people laugh when other people tickle them?" Clark nodded. "Sneezing is the way your nose laughs when something tickles it."
"Sneezing's fun?"
Bad comparison, Jonathan told himself. Clark had gotten that "I'm missing out on something" pout that he occasionally got when Martha or Jonathan explained human functions that he didn't seem to have. "No, it just sounds funny."
"Can I sneeze?"
"Well, you haven't yet, but maybe it's something you'll do when you get bigger."
Clark nodded, relatively satisfied, and then the topic changed to the grossness of slugs.
****
Phil Ross had warned them, "Nap time isn't for them, it's for *you.*" Well, he should know, he was Pete's father. Fortunately, Clark was still willing to nap and sometimes cooperated by lying down, wherever he was, the moment somebody announced that it was nap time, so that they'd have to carry him up. Jonathan deposited Clark on his bed and reminded him, "No, you snore *after* you fall asleep."
He could deal just fine with remembering the time that Clark had run into their bedroom, wanting to know what was wrong, why Daddy was making that noise. He didn't even mind that Clark sometimes tried to snore, just like Daddy. What he still held a grudge about was Martha's remembering it and the way she didn't try hard to repress her laughter when she remembered it.
He gave Clark another quick squeeze and went back downstairs. With luck, maybe it would be a couple of hours, since sometimes after he woke up, Clark would quietly play by himself or, more often lately, lie thinking. He and Martha sometimes wondered if Clark had to unlearn things from his home world or his own species, since he certainly seemed to spend a lot of time "just thinking."
Who knows, maybe they could even finish a video. He and Martha both had a thing for the really cheesy low-budget creature horror films, the kind where they could debate over whether the mutated dinosaur crushing cities under its feet was a plastic model or if somebody really did tape green macaroni on an iguana. Martha still jumped at the "scary" bits and that was as good an excuse as any for them to get a bit closer. Having Clark asking what was happening in the movie or what they themselves were doing just didn't bring the same kinds of satisfaction.
A very satisfying hour and a half passed and the mutated dinosaur had just been blown up when they heard the thunk that announced that Clark had jumped off the bed. Jonathan kept an ear open for the sound of his coming downstairs, but the movie drew to its ending, and he and Martha had to discuss whether the dinosaur eggs were really red grapes.
There was an unfamiliar sound, a bump, then the sound of triumphant Clark giggling. After a moment, Jonathan grinned. "I got it, he's trying to sneeze."
"Then what's the bump?"
They exchanged a look that said "better find out" and headed upstairs.
"Look at me sneeze!" Clark sat on the floor, legs crossed, an expression of intense concentration on his face. He took a deep breath and then exploded it through his nose. The force was enough to just barely lift him off the ground.
Okay, another thing to tell Clark not to do around other people. But in the meantime, "Gesundheit." If Clark thought the word "sneeze" was funny, there were plenty more words where that came from.