"Uncle Phil!" Came a small, cheery voice that morning, accompanied by the flutter of a sheet of paper and the clicking of a bunch of pens, "Can you help me draw?"
Phil smirked and tapped his foot on the cold kitchen tiles, thoughtfully. He had only just finished washing the dishes from dinner. Washing the dishes was one of the few things that always needed doing and he was in the habit of not letting anything go untaken care of.
"That depends," he hummed, "What are you drawing?"
"Uncle Dan said that you'd join me if we drew lions," Dab replied, and Phil heard the scraping of a chair being pulled across the floorboards.
"Alright, you got me," Phil sighed, turning around to see Dab sat at the table, paper spread out in front of him next to many coloured pens and pencils.
He dried his hands, neatly folded the tea-towel up, placed it on the counter, wandered over to the table, drew back the black chair opposite the ecstatic-looking child and sat down, his knees cracking as he did.
"Lions…" he repeated, gazing down at the single sheet of paper on the table.
He couldn't quite remember how to draw lions, but he was sure he could make it up as he went along.
As he looked up again, he found a pencil being held out in front of his face. He took it with a slight smile and chewed the end of it as he watched Dab start to doodle something, too.
A sudden movement ahead of him, in the bedroom doorway, grabbed Phil's attention and his eyes shot like lasers to it, only to see Dan stood there in a grey jumper.
Dan nodded towards him with a grin and Phil could only sigh and smile back.
He looked back to the paper but was still aware of his friend's movement from the corner of his eyes. It was then he realised he could probably draw a pretty cute lion if he put his mind to it.
Dab heard him mutter 'I can't draw…' to himself.
"I can't draw, either," he said, quietly, to him.
Phil's smile fell and he flicked his gaze up to make eye contact,
"What do you mean? You're brilliant," he assured Dab. He was going to add 'for your age' but decided it would be more meaningful if he left it at that, "And I'm sure you'll get even better with time," he concluded.
Dan keenly watched this interaction take place as he walked along to the breakfast bar, running a hand along the top of the sofa as he went. He was glad that Phil had stopped cleaning for once and was now actually socialising.
Dan gave a wide beam of a smile as he saw an almost-perfect sketch of Lion on the paper. Of course it was the only way Phil could draw lions.
It was quite adorable, actually.
Dan flicked on the tea machine and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, tapping his fingers on the porcelain as he waited. He could sense that Phil would be annoyed that – after just finishing the washing up – he'd have to do it again.
"Look!" He heard a cheery call as Dab held up his drawing to show Phil.
"Oh- I- that's very good," Phil chuckled before swallowing. Dan could tell he was struggling to interact properly and be a good baby-sitter, but he was at least trying his best.
"Look, Uncle Dan!" Dab rhapsodised, holding up his drawing like Simba.
"Woah, great job!" Dan encouraged him, giving a thumbs up.
He was sure he could hear Phil quietly singing the beginning of The Circle of Life under his breath.
He didn't know the actual words, of course, but he was able to create some strange noises that vaguely resembled the tune.
Dan noted that the tea machine had finished already and he'd been standing, idly, for a good minute, so he hurried to make his drink before he started to look even more lost.
He let the tea dribble into the mug before adding a splash of milk, stirring and picking up the cup again, the hot steam warming his face as he took a long, thoughtful sip.
He then dribbled the liquid back into the cup because it was unreasonably hot and his mouth was now sizzling like he'd just gargled magma.
Maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration, but that's what it felt like to him.
"I'm gonna' draw a snail!" He heard Dab cheer, followed by the scratching of a pencil and Phil's confused response of 'why a snail?'
Phil did not get an answer.
Dan leaned his elbows on the bar and stared out of the window on the other side of the room. It was very warm today and he would have opened the windows, except they weren't the type of windows that opened and so he just had to fry like an ant under a microscope.
A very tall, curly-haired, noodle-like ant.
"Uncle Phil?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you draw a snail?"
"Why do you want me to do that?"
"So mine has a friend."
"Uh… Alright, I suppose."
Dan was entertained, greatly, by his friend's conversation, and looked to the table from the corner of his eyes. He thought he should really remind Phil of Summer's party tomorrow – they'd need time to figure out outfits and neither of them had a mask to wear; masks are essential to a masquerade.
He'd let Phil relax for a bit first, though. He seemed to be content enough with Dab and the snail drawings, so far.
It was getting to be a good day.
"Does it have a name?" Dan heard Dab enquire.
"Uh… Susan Three!" Phil replied.
Of course the snail was called Susan.
"Mine's called Sally: Sally the snail," Dab said, matter-of-factly, "I think Sally and Susan are snail sisters."
Dan watched as Phil laughed with his tongue between his teeth and laid down the pencil on the table, next to the paper.
"They're snisters…" Dan heard him snigger.
"They look very different, though. You wouldn't be able to tell they were sisters."
"Maybe they're snisters-in-law," Phil chuckled. It seemed that Dab didn't get his joke.
"What does that mean?" Dab asked.
"It means that Sally is Susan's snail husband's snister," Phil replied, holding back another round of laughter. He did not know why he found this so strangely entertaining.
"Oh, I see…" Dab mused, thoughtfully, before Phil started his odd, snort-wheeze of a laugh again.
He sounded much like a pug
"I'm sn-aughing so hard right now."
That pun was a stretch.
"Do you need some snater?" Dan asked, politely.
"What's snater?"
"Snail water."
"That's so snadistic-" (apparently that was supposed to be 'sadistic') "-There are snails watching!"
"It's water that snails drink."
"Sn-annerbalism!" Phil gasped, stretching to make a play on the word cannibalism, "I will report you to the sn-authorities!"
"I won't give up without a sn-ight!" Dan proclaimed with a wide grin.
Dab was extremely confused by this whole exchange and decided to just carry on drawing, entering his own, pun-free world of perfectly normal snails that abided by our own moral standards.