"Guys, what did I literally just say about the shoes?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, I guess."
"Is that all I'm getting?"
"Umm…" Dab hummed, not even tearing his gaze from the paper in front of him, and not seeming to care at all that he'd done exactly what he was told not to do. He didn't continue his sentence, either, and instead continued what he was doing.
Phil could feel a sharp remark creeping up his throat, but controlled himself and kept it down.
"I think you two should be the ones to clean up the mess you've made," he said instead, strictly.
Dab groaned in reply to this, loudly, and threw his head back in frustration.
"Do we have to?" He mumbled, "But it'll be dinnertime soon!"
Phil paused, considering what to answer with that wouldn't be too strict or, on the other hand, too lenient.
"After dinner," he decided, "And that's final," he added, seeing that Dab was about to answer back.
Evan stayed silent throughout all of this, but at least he looked up from his science book to pay attention to what was being said. He didn't seem the type to really get involved in arguments, especially not with other people's parents – or in this case, childminders.
Phil bit his lip, saw that nobody was going to say anything else, frowned and left the room.
He shut the door as quietly as he could as he walked away, and quickly flashed his eyes about the main room as he made his way over to the sofa, avoiding dirty footprints as he went, and practically threw himself into the cushions, beside Dan.
"They're not listening to me," he said, flatly, even though Dan had heard the entire conversation.
Dan looked up from the book in his hands and bit his lip.
"You're not giving up, are you?" He swallowed, for want of anything better to say.
"Oh, no, if course not," Phil replied, shaking his head, dismissively, as if he were offended at the mere thought of it.
"They're not going to clean up unless you really tell them to," Dan said, looking back down to his book, "Don't let them 'umm' and 'ahhh' about it; let them know that you're the one who sets the rules."
"I don't want to turn into an army officer," Phil scoffed, but he took the advice onboard. If the kids still refused to clean after tea, he wouldn't be compromising and they would be cleaning, whether they liked it or not.
There was a heavy silence where neither of them spoke, only sat next to each other and contemplated whatever their mind conjured up.
"I, uh…" Phil started, "I was wondering what I should make for dinner. Any ideas?"
"Fish and chips," Dan replied, as if he'd been deciding the answer to this question all his life and had come to a very definite reply and was completely certain that dinner must be fish and chips.
"A- alright," Phil agreed, slightly surprised at the fact that it took Dan about 0.3 seconds to answer, and he stood up again.
"You don't have to start it yet," Dan told him, flatly, "Sit down for a while. You need a rest."
"I… suppose so," Phil shrugged, sitting back down and letting Dan put his arm around his shoulders, quietly, "What book are you reading?"
"A cookbook," Dan replied, stroking down his friend's arm, comfortingly.
"That explains why you replied so quickly," Phil smiled, noticing that the title of the page was a recipe for fish and chips. He would have sat with Dan a little longer, but he felt as if he was wasting time not doing anything, and soon slipped away to the kitchen.
"It's not even twelve yet," Dan frowned, slightly disappointed that his buddy had suddenly left him.
"Hey, the sooner the kids get their dinner, the sooner they can clean the floor," Phil reasoned with a shrug.
Dan set his eyes on the footprints on the white floorboards – of which were usually immaculate – and had to admit that they could do with cleaning before the Howlter parents got home. He didn't say this, though.
"Is that what you told them?" He inquired instead, and received a nod in confirmation. He wasn't sure that Dab in particular would stick to this resolution, but he could only hope along with his friend that he would.
"I mean, I could just clean it myse-"
"No way, pal!" Dan put in before Phil could end his sentence, "They're the ones who left the mess; you aren't here to clean up after them. Dil and Tabitha aren't going to mind if there's a bit of muck on the floor as long as they know the children are going to scrub it off."
But still he could read the annoyance in his friend's eyes: Phil hadn't let any tiny matter go unattended for the time that the Howlters were at Granite Falls and he still insisted on keeping everything perfect whenever he found himself head of the house, which was most of the time.
He set about preparing everything in dead silence, with hardly any expression on his face, and only the aura about him to discreetly convey any emotions, of which there were not many, to say the least.
Dan chewed his lip in thought, set the cookbook out on the counter, open at the page necessary, and leaned on the breakfast bar with his elbows.
"Smile," he ordered the next time Phil turned around, and he complied.
"Sorry," Phil chuckled, "Am I being peculiar again? Don't know what it is. Some sort of atmosphere, I don't know…" and he continued what he was doing.
His words were pretty vague but Dan knew exactly what he meant.