Rabbit

"Did everybody wash their hands?" Carly asked as she slid four plates of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches onto the table.

"Yes!" Emma, Ashton, Clarissa and Quincy all answered at once, eagerly digging into their lunches.

"Good job," Carly smiled.

"Can I have two sandwiches, mommy?" Emma asked, looking up at Sam with her big, brown, pleading eyes. "You always have two sandwiches at lunchtime."
"Sure thing, kid," Sam nodded, placing one-year old Tyler in his highchair. "Just finish your first one first."

"Aw, you wanna be just like your mommy, huh, Emma?" Carly said.

"Uh-huh," Emma nodded proudly. "Mommy's cool."

"That's my girl," Sam said, high-fiving the five-year old.

"I think you're cool too, mommy," Ashton spoke up.

"Aw, thank you, sweetie," Sam said, kissing the top of her other daughter's head.

"Hey, do you care if I feed Tyler?" Carly asked, tickling the infant's toes. "I miss taking care of a baby now that Clarissa is getting bigger."

"I'm real big," Clarissa said happily. "I turn six next week!"

"Stop reminding me," Carly sighed sadly.

"Knock yourself out, Carls," Sam said, handing her best friend a couple jars of baby food. "Be careful though; he's a spitter."

"Thanks for the warning," Carly said. "Anyway, speaking of Clarissa's birthday, you're still good to help me and Andy out, right? We're going to have thirty screaming kids at our place…it's gonna be rough."

"Yeah, sure," Sam nodded. "As long as there's cake, I'm good."

"Thanks," Carly said, attempting to spoon mashed carrots into Tyler's mouth. "Man…this kid is really fussy today."

As Tyler fussed and squirmed away from the incoming carrots, he accidently knocked over a glass of juice that was sitting at the table, sending the liquid pouring onto Quincy's lap.

"Hey!" Quincy exclaimed.

"Oh…sorry about that, Quince," Sam said, quickly grabbing a towel from the counter.

"Ha! It looks like Quincy peed in his pants!" Emma laughed loudly.

"No I didn't!" Quincy defended.

"Emma…" Sam said warningly as she tried to clean Quincy up. "Hmm, looks like this got all over you, Quincy."

"I'm cold, Aunt Sam," Quincy frowned.

"I know," Sam said sympathetically. "But we have some old clothes of Jason's lying around upstairs that you can change into. Hold on just one second…Fredwad! Fredwad, get in here!"

"What?" Freddie asked, coming into the kitchen. "I was watching Doctor Who!"

"Tyler spilled juice all over Quincy," Sam said. "Can you find some of Jason's old stuff for him?"

"Sure," Freddie said. "Come on, Quincy, let's go get you cleaned up."

"This kid is just as messy as you," Carly commented as she began to wipe up the mess Tyler had made.

"I know," Sam sighed. "He's been a real handful lately. Imagine how much he'll get into once he learns how to walk without holding onto stuff."

Just then the kitchen door opened and Gibby walked in.

"Hey, I smell peanut butter and jelly," Gibby said.

"We just made the kids lunch," Carly said. "You want a sandwich?"

"Hey! Don't go offering my fancy peanut butter up to Gibbies!" Sam snapped.

"Oh come on, set a good example about sharing for the kids," Carly said, rolling her eyes. "So do you want a sandwich, Gib?"

"Sure, I'm starving," Gibby nodded. "I haven't eaten since I got off the boat."

"Why were you on a boat?" Sam frowned. "I thought you had to run into work."

"I did," Gibby said. "But today was boat day."

"Boat day?" Carly repeated. "Er, exactly what is it that you do again?"

"Don't worry about it," Gibby said quickly. "So where's Quincy?"

"Upstairs getting cleaned up with Freddie," Sam said. "Tyler spilled juice on him."

"What kind of juice?"

"Does it matter?" Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"You know I'm curious about juices!" Gibby said as Carly handed him a sandwich.

"Yeah, it's just one of the reasons on the list of why you're a total freak," Sam said, shaking her head. "Anyway, you remember you're taking the kids to the park tomorrow, right?"

"What? Since when?" Gibby frowned.

"Since we talked to you about it yesterday," Carly said. "Remember? Sam, Freddie and I have to help Spencer clean our old iCarly stuff out of his storage unit."

"Yeah, dipthong, you promised you'd take the kids," Sam said, punching the man in the arm. "So you're taking them."

"Ow!" Gibby cringed, massaging his arm. "That hurt, Sam!"

"Oh man up!"

"Hey, Gib," Freddie said, returning to the kitchen with Quincy.

"Your wife hit me!" Gibby told Freddie.

"Sam!" Freddie frowned.

"He deserved it," Sam shrugged, wiping Tyler's face off, which was covered with baby food.

"I thought we talked about you being, er, aggressive, in front of the kids," Freddie mumbled under his breath to Sam.

"Oh come on, they're five, they were too wrapped up in their lunches to pay attention to me," Sam said.

"Kids are observant," Freddie said.

"You're paranoid," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"I am not; don't you remember when Jason was free and he overheard you saying a certain word?" Freddie said. "And it took us weeks to get him to stop."

"What word was that again?" Sam frowned.

"You know…" Freddie said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Butt-face?"

"Oh yeah!" Sam laughed.

"What's a butt-face, daddy?" Ashton asked.

"It sounds funny," Emma giggled. "Butt-face, butt-face, butt-face!"

"You see!" Freddie moaned.

…..

"Well," Sam yawned as she dragged her feet into the Benson's home the following week. "I'm exhausted."

"Same here," Freddie said, setting Tyler in his playpen as Emma and Ashton, hopped up on cake and ice cream from Clarissa's birthday party, ran around the living room chasing one another.

"Oh what are you so tired for? You sat inside and talked to Andy and Spencer the whole time," Sam snapped.

"That's not true!" Freddie defended. "I was working the petting zoo. I think I got rabbit pee all over my new shirt, too…"

"Leave it to Carly to throw an over-the-top, extravagant birthday party for a six-year old," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"You know Carly lives for stuff like this," Freddie pointed out. "Remember when Clarissa turned one and she hired that magician from Vegas to perform?"

"Oh yeah, that guy must've cost a fortune," Sam said. "And I never got back those sunglasses that he made 'disappear'."

"Well, at least the kids had a good time," Freddie said, watching as the twins continued to run around. "Course now they're all hyper…"

"They'll tire themselves out," Sam assured him.

"Ashton! It's my turn to play with the Goofy Putty!" Emma said loudly.

"No! It's my turn!" Ashton argued.

"Not really a fan of the Goofy Putty in the party favors, though," Sam sighed. "Those two are gonna get that stuff everywhere. Hopefully they'll forget about it soon and I can take it without them noticing."

"You gonna throw it away?" Freddie asked.

"No…I'm going to save it and play with it myself," Sam grinned.

"Like you're going to be any less messy with that stuff than the girls," Freddie chuckled, amused. "Ten bucks says you have that stuff stuck to our sheets by the end of the night."

"Well good thing you're doing the laundry tomorrow," Sam smirked. "Because-"

"Ow!"

Sam and Freddie spun around and saw Ashton on the floor, clutching her arm.

"Ashton, honey, what happened?" Freddie asked, hurrying over to his daughter.

"Emma-Emma hit me!" Ashton cried, tears streaming down her face. "She tried to take my-my Goofy Putty and she hit me!"

"Emma!" Freddie scolded. "Is this true?"

"Um…" Emma began, looking down at her feet.

"Emma, tell the truth," Sam said firmly. "Did you hit your sister?"

"Yes," Emma mumbled.

"Emma, you know you're not supposed to hit anybody," Freddie said. "It's very wrong."

"But mommy hit Uncle Gibby!" Emma said, looking up at her mother. "I saw her!"

"Um…what?" Sam frowned. "Emma, what do you mean?"

"You hit Uncle Gibby that day Tyler spilled juice on Quincy," Emma said. "Because you said he deserved it. Well Ashton deserved it because she wasn't sharing the Goofy Putty."

"I didn't deserve it!" Ashton wailed.

"No, of course you didn't," Freddie nodded, looking over at Sam, who looked absolutely stunned.

"Am I in trouble?" Emma asked nervously.

"Y-Yes, you're in trouble," Sam said, snapping out of her daze. "Emma, we don't hit people, you understand? I don't care if Ashton had your toy or not."

"But you hit people!" Emma retorted, crossing her arm.

"Well…that-that doesn't matter!" Sam said.

"Why?" Emma asked.

"Because!" Sam said. "Because I-Um…Because-"

"Emma, go to your room," Freddie said, cutting off his wife. "Right now. You need to think about what you did."

"No fair!" Emma howled, stomping her feet.

"Do you want to miss dessert too?" Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Grumbling protests under her breath, Emma stormed upstairs.

"Alright, Ashton, I think you're okay," Freddie said, kissing the top of her head. "Why don't you go play outside for a little while, okay?"
"Okay," Ashton sniffed, turning and running outside.

Once Ashton was safely out of earshot, Freddie turned to Sam. "Well?"

"Well what?" Sam snapped.

"Sam, this is a serious problem! I told you; you need to watch what you do in front of the kids! Especially Emma and Ashton; yo know how much they look up to you!"

"So this is my fault?" Sam frowned.

"You heard Emma," Freddie said. "She saw you hit Gibby the other day, and now she thinks that's how you handle conflicts."

Sam didn't reply.

"Do you really think this is okay?" Freddie continued. "For Emma to go around hitting everybody who upsets her? What if she does something like this in school? She could get suspended! Or what if she gets into fights when she's older and gets hurt? Or what if-"

"Okay, I screwed up!" Sam exclaimed. "There, you happy? You were right! I'm a terrible mother!"

"Baby, you're not a terrible mother," Freddie said. "You just made a mistake. All parents do. You're still a good role model for all the kids."

"Yeah, well what am I supposed to do about this?" Sam sighed. "Emma wanted to be like me and she wound up hurting her sister!"

"Just go talk to her," Freddie said. "Explain to her that it's wrong to hit people and then, you know, in the future maybe don't hit people yourself. Or at least don't hit people in front of the kids."

Sam nodded. "Alright. I guess I should go talk to her now…"

"You'll do fine," Freddie said, giving her a quick kiss.

Sam headed upstairs to the twins' room. She took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Emma was laying on her bed, glaring up at the ceiling.

"Emma?" Sam said.

Emma grunted and turned away from her mother, clearly still upset about her punishment.

"Emma, we need to talk," Sam said, sitting down on the corner of her daughter's bed.

"I don't want to talk," Emma mumbled.

"Well then how about you listen?" Sam said. "Emma, you know hitting your sister was wrong, don't you? You hurt her."

Emma looked away, slightly ashamed.

"It's not nice to hit people," Sam continued. "I know sometimes people can get on your nerves and frustrate you, but-but it's still not okay to hit. You need to use your words like a big girl and-"

"But then how come you hit people, mommy?" Emma asked, sitting up. "Like Uncle Gibby? You hit him all the time."

"Um…" Sam said slowly. "Okay, the thing is, Em, mommy is an adult, and-"

"So when I'm an adult I can hit people?"
"No," Sam said quickly. "No, that's not-it's not okay when mommy hits people either. Even when it's Uncle Gibby."

"It's not?" Emma said.
"No," Sam said heavily. "It's not okay when anybody hits anybody. Mommy-Mommy makes mistakes sometimes."

"You forget to use your words?" Emma asked.

"Er, exactly," Sam nodded. "But it's still not right."

"Oh," Emma said sadly.

"And it makes you feel bad too, doesn't it?" Sam said. "I know you love Ashton very much and would never want to hurt her."
"No," Emma said softly. She looked up at her mother. "Am I bad now, mommy?"

"No, sweetie, you're not bad," Sam said at once. "Like I said, you just made a mistake. And what have daddy and I told you to do when you make a mistake?"

"Apologize," Emma said promptly.

"Very good," Sam smiled. "So how about we go find Ashton so you can apologize to her, okay?"

"Okay!" Emma nodded.

Sam led Emma downstairs back to the living room, where Ashton was now playing with Freddie.

"Ashton," Sam said. "Emma has something she wants to say to you."

Emma stepped over to her twin. "Ashy, I'm sorry I hit you. It wasn't nice."

"That's okay," Ashton said. "Do you want to play with the Goofy Putty now?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Wow, that went well," Freddie chuckled as Sam sat down next to him. "So you talked to her?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "We had a nice little chat, right Emma?"

"Right," Emma said. "But mommy?"

"What, honey?"

"Are you going to apologize to Uncle Gibby for hitting him?" Emma asked.

Sam nearly fell out of her seat. "Excuse me?"

"You said hitting people is a mistake," Emma explained. "And you said when you make a mistake, you have to apologize for it."

"Um…right," Sam said slowly. "But um, see, the thing is…"

"That's an excellent point, Emma," Freddie grinned, enjoying this moment. "Sam, since Emma apologized to Ashton, it's only fair that you apologize to Gibby."

"Do you have a death wish or something?" Sam hissed to her husband under her breath.

"So are you going to apologize, mommy?" Emma asked.

"Well…I-I'm sure Gibby's busy right now," Sam said lamely. "Doing…Gibby stuff. So I-"

"Nope, I just texted him," Freddie said brightly, holding up his Pearphone. "He's totally free right now. Should I tell him to come over?"

"Er…" Sam said hesitantly. She looked down at Emma, who was staring up at her expectantly. She took a deep breath. "Fine," she sighed. "Tell-Tell Gibby to come over."

….

"Alright, Gibby, listen up," Sam said as she paced back and forth in the kitchen where Gibby, Freddie, Emma and Ashton all were. "What I'm about to say I'm only going to say once."

"Um…what's going on here?" Gibby asked, confused.

"Oh…I think you'll enjoy it," Freddie grinned.

"Okay," Sam said, swallowing every once of her pride. "Gibwad-Um, I mean…Gibby. I suppose in the past I may have been a bit, um, aggressive towards you-"

"A bit?" Gibby scoffed.

"Shut it!" Sam warned. "Anyway, as I was saying…I guess in the past I may have been unnecessarily aggressive with you. You know, hitting you, kicking you…giving you so many wedgies that I'm actually sort of shocked you've managed to have kids…But um, the-the thing I'm trying to say is that, um, I-I'm…I'm sorry."

"What?" Gibby said, shocked.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Sam said, looking like she had just swallowed a lemon. "I shouldn't hit you and-and I'm going to try and not do that anymore."

"Wow, seriously?" Gibby exclaimed. "You mean I don't have to worry about getting hurt around here anymore?"

"N-Nope," Sam said weakly.

"This is great!" Gibby said cheerfully, bouncing to his feet. "This is fantastic! This is-oops!"

In all the excitement, Gibby accidently knocked over the bottle of root beer that had been sitting at the table, sending it spilling into Sam's lap.

"Oh, um, sorry about that," Gibby said nervously as Sam clenched her fists. "My bad."

"Yeah, it is your bad!" Sam snapped, jumping to her feet, ready to strike. "What kind of a moron-"

But just then she caught sight of her daughters watching her.

"I mean…it's fine," Sam said slowly, taking a few, calming breaths. "It-It was just an accident. Well…this has been…fun. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go upstairs and change."

"Alright, Gib, I think you better go," Freddie said as his wife left the kitchen. "There's a good chance she might explode if you stick around any longer."