Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or these characters.

Author's Note: Okay, so maybe I am developing something of a plot. I have no idea where this is going. I'm just going to work with it.

Martha and Jonathan were reluctant to venture from the Kent farm, because the rest of Smallville was in utter chaos, even though the meteor shower had happened a while ago. The first time Martha had gone to the store to buy sippy cups and Pull-Ups for Clark, she had come back to the farm in tears; she had never seen so much suffering on the streets of Smallville.

But things were getting better. Martha now took Clark on her outings to town, and many of the Kents' friends and neighbors were stopping them to say hello and meet Martha and Jonathan's adopted son.

Martha lifted Clark into the front basket of the shopping cart at the supermarket. "Clark, honey, this is the grocery store, where we buy food so we can eat."

"Eeee," said Clark quietly, squeezing the teddy bear he'd brought with him to the store.

"That's right, honey. Eeee," Martha laughed. She rolled the shopping cart through the front doors of the supermarket and into the produce section. "Now, sweetie, we live on a farm, so we don't have to get a lot of fruits and vegetables. But there are some things we just can't grow on our own, like bananas." She stopped by the display of bananas, picked up a ripe bunch of them, and put them into the cart behind Clark. "We need bananas. Can you say 'banana?'"

Clark was quiet.

Martha tried again. "Ba-na-na?" she asked her son, sounding out each of the syllables.

Clark just kind of grasped his teddy bear. 'Banana' was obviously too big of a word for him.

"It's okay, sweetie. We'll try again later." Martha moved on to the oranges, and selected a few ripe ones. After selecting a head of lettuce, she moved on to the deli counter.

"We have to get some cold cuts to make sandwiches for lunch," she told Clark as she moved the cart to the counter. "You love eating sandwiches with Daddy, don't you, honey?"

"Why, hello, Martha!"

Martha turned around. Sherriff Ethan was standing beside the counter, holding a basket full of groceries and wearing his uniform. He had probably just gotten off duty. "Hi, Sherriff," Martha smiled.

"Out shopping with the bundle of joy? How's he doing?"

Martha smiled. "He's doing just fine. And he's certainly a bundle of joy; he brings Jonathan and I a lot of happiness." She ran a hand through her son's hair.

"Speaking of Jonathan, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. A lot of other farmers in the area have been complaining of meteor rocks in their fields. Big ones. They go out to plow a few acres, and the meteor rocks get in the way and break their tractors."

"Jonathan hasn't said anything," Martha admitted, "but I'll warn him. Clark here seems to be afraid of the meteor rocks. One got in his sandbox the other day, and he just started to cry. I think he thinks they're unnatural."

Sheriff Ethan chuckled. "Cute kid. Well, Martha, just thought I'd let you know. Tell Jonathan I said hi."

"Will do."

"There's my son!"

"Daaaaa!"

Little Clark toddled across the kitchen floor and grasped his father's legs in a hug. Jonathan bent down, picked his son up off the floor, and hugged him tight. "Clark, say 'Daddy.'"

"Daaaaa."

"Dad-dy."

"Daaadaaaa."

"Close enough. Now Clark, say 'Mommy.'"

"Instead of saying 'Mommy,' how about you give Mommy a hand?" Martha asked in exasperation. She had heavy grocery bags in her hands as she made her way through the side door.

"Sorry, honey." Jonathan grabbed a grocery bag from his wife, and set it on the counter. "After we get the groceries put away, Clark and I are going to watch the game on TV. It's never too early to start teaching my son football. Clark, can you say 'football?'"

Blank stare.

"Foot-ball."

A blink, and then another blank stare.

"You're confusing me, Daddy," Martha said, imitating Clark. "Besides, Jonathan," she added in her normal voice. "He doesn't need to watch football. I'll be making dinner, and he needs to learn how to set the dinner table."

"He can't even reach the dinner table!" Jonathan grabbed another grocery bag from Martha and set it on the counter. "Oh, good," he remarked, peering inside. "You got the ham I like."

"Speaking of ham, guess who I ran into at the deli. Sherriff Ethan. He's been talking to other farmers in the area, and apparently, they're running into large meteor rocks as they're plowing and ruining their tractors. You need to be careful."

"We'll be careful. Won't we, son?" Jonathan cast a look at Clark.

"Daaaaadaaaa," was Clark's only reply.