Directing Maneuvers
Gibbs, in a struggle to free Abby from her buttoned coat, stopped to admonish, "Ok, enough, you two- Tim come over and sit on this side with Abby and me."
Scowling in reply, the child insisted stubbornly, "I want to sit over there, though, Daddy, and they do not own the table."
"If Tim sits over there I want to sit there, too," Abby chimed into the conflict, trying to yank her hand from her father's.
The waitress interrupted with the aforementioned booster seats, a bit battered, but nevertheless, usable.
Kate and Tony exchanged smirks.
She had just brought two.
Helping her set them securely on the seat he swung Abby, then lifted Tim into them, oblivious to their protests. Sliding in between them he raised his eyebrows at his other two as a warning to remove their smirks.
Depending upon the day, the time, and the circumstance, he had to step up and champion one or the other of his children for some reason or another.
Their moods improved positively as they pored over the menu, and Gibbs sat back and marveled at them. They pointed out the side dishes and extras to each other, and conferred over the selections.
By the time the cute waitress returned they were ready for her, having managed to not only navigate the menu, but to make substitutions and exchanges in their final choices.
She turned to Gibbs and regarded him with respect.
Usually dealing with children and their choices took an excruciatingly long time.
Ignoring her stunned expression, he simply added his own selection to her list and watched as she walked away.
His children had divided the crayons and color sheets the waitress left on the tabletop, and worked intensely.
They made him proud, he admitted to himself, leaning back to rest against the back of the cushion.
They shared, and they all concentrated on their task at hand.
Gibbs looked around at the other diners, and focused on a couple with two misbehaving children.
Watching that interaction for a couple of minutes proved enough. He returned to observing his own little team.
Kate and Abby were reading the rhyme on the back of the activity sheet, joining their voices to recite the verse.
All four of the kids had learned to read early, though motivated for different reasons.
Smiling at them, Gibbs momentarily lost himself in sweet reminiscences of each child experiencing the wonders of discovering the written word.
Tony, climbing unbidden onto his lap with the sports section of the paper that Gibbs had set on the floor one rainy Saturday, insisted that Jethro look at the headline above the picture of some basketball players. When his father finished reading the words to him Tony leaned up and patted Jethro on the cheek as he instructed, "Now, Daddy, show me how to do that."
Thus began, at not quite five years old, Tony's road to literacy.
Gibbs conceded that his oldest son had also encouraged his sisters and brother to appreciate reading. Taking his role of big brother seriously he had spent many hours pointing out words in their favorite books, and then coaching them in letters and the alphabet's sounds.
With some prior knowledge then, the other three had picked up the gist of the fundamentals.
Kate's start began when she begged her father to help her decipher aisle signs in the grocery store one Saturday.
Tim found a book on robots when Jethro took them to a local bookstore one Sunday afternoon. Lugging it to where his father studied a how- to manual on building outdoor wood play equipment, he asked hopefully for Jethro to show him how to say the words describing the robots.
The catalyst had arrived for Abby in the form of a pop up "Twas The Night Before Christmas" book. She wanted clarification upon the embossed words she traced with her finger.
Tim's plaintive insistence that he had to use the restroom yanked Gibbs from his reverie, and he hurriedly dealt with the child, supervised the meals, then implemented bathroom visits for the rest before he seated them in the car once again.
Tony entertained him on that last leg of the journey, and Gibbs enjoyed his son's company. His oldest possessed a great sense of humor and a penchant for keeping up with news topics, along with the minutiae from countless topics which interested the child.
Abby and Tim had fallen asleep before their father made it out of the diner parking lot and onto the road.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Gibbs noted that Kate dozed alongside them.
Though he made the children take turns sitting by the windows, truthfully, he preferred having his oldest ride near him on trips. Jethro could not say exactly how, but his eldest possessed an intuitive streak about his father, and uncannily tuned into his dad's thoughts.
Jethro smiled down at Tony, who embraced the passenger seat in front of him, arms wrapped around the headrest but careful to remain belted.
In return, he grinned impishly at his father. "Did you tell Grandpa we would get there after supper?"
Puzzled, Gibbs responded, "No, Tony, but do you have any reason for us to get there then?"
"Nope, I do not, but you have been driving under the speed limit and letting everyone pass us. I just thought you wanted to take your time and be a slowpoke, Dad."
Somewhat chastened, Gibbs shook his head. "I had not even noticed I was the slowest on the road, Son, but thanks for alerting me."
"Just an observation," Tony smiled widely, gaps showing from lost baby teeth. "So why are we letting everyone pass us? I want to at least beat the old folks, Dad, the folks older than you, I mean."
Laughing, Jethro ruffled the boy's hair. "Okay, Son, I'll speed up so as not to embarrass you, but I had just been enjoying the scenery and the pretty weather."
Then, to prove himself a man of his word, he accelerated to a decent speed.
By the time he rolled into Stillwater Tim and Kate had awakened, but Abby still slept deeply, thumb jammed in her mouth and her baby doll dangling from the car seat.
Parking the car in back of Jackson's General Store, Gibbs unfolded himself from the car and stretched, then motioned to his oldest children and pointed towards the house.
Wiggling with excitement, they hastily unsnapped and disembarked. As Jethro unlocked the trunk to grab the suitcases Kate and Tim streaked to the door, slamming it open with animated yells of "Grandpa, Grandpa, here we are!"
Watching them rush through, Jethro laughed out loud. It was good to see his children so eager and so joyful at the prospect of getting to his own father.
Peering around the side of the trunk's lid he glimpsed Tony's legs as the child slid backwards from the backseat cushion and then balanced on the ground. He had freed Abby from her car seat and held her protectively in his arms before setting her gently beside the car. Leaning back inside the vehicle he grabbed her doll and handed it to her before ordering, "Go ahead 'cause Grandpa is waiting for us."
Still not fully awake, she nodded and ambled towards the house, clutching her baby against her.
Tony slammed the door before rounding the car to join his dad.
"Thank you for helping Abby, Son, but why haven't you gone with the rest?" Jethro studied him, surprised that Tony had not raced to the door first.
"I will, Daddy," the child assured him, nodding. "But you need me right now, don't you?" Reaching into the trunk he grabbed one of the bags and lifted it in his arms.
Gibbs grabbed him by his arm and pulled him against him, then leaned over the case to plant a kiss on the top of the child's head. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," came the reply, and juggling the heavy case, Tony made his way to the door just as Jack headed out, balancing Kate on one hip and Tim on the other. Abby clutched his hand adoringly.
Putting them down hurriedly and turning loose of the little girl, he grabbed the suitcase from Tony and wrapped an arm around the child's thin frame. "Look at you! You are practically a grown up now, Tony!" Kissing him softly on the cheek he whispered, "Head on into the kitchen. I guarantee Grandpa has some snacks waiting that you will love."
Tony disappeared and Jack moved the case indoors before walking down the drive to meet his son, weighted down with the remainder of their possessions.
Jack regarded him with amusement. "I thought you were a gunny, son, able to get by with the most meager of possessions and not reliant upon doo dahs and what nots. What's all this frou frou?"
Grinning, he grabbed the remaining bag from the trunk and slammed the lid.
"Yeah, well, see, Dad, that was before the gunny commanded four little troops," his son defended himself. "I liken it to herding cats-"
Then laughing, the two walked into the house and shut the door behind them.
The front door opening with a creak penetrated his consciousness, and Jethro bolted upright with a start to find Ducky peeping into the room.
Gibbs regarded him sheepishly. "That injection knocked me out, Duck. I think I had better stay away from that pain killer. You would not believe the dream I had!"