Little Stripy Socks.
Light patters of feet could be heard across the floorboard above his head. Soft giggles and heavier footsteps padded along the same path. Then back again. The light footsteps began to get faster, weaving it's way between the gaps of the heavier footsteps.
A deeper giggle could be heard, the higher pitched laugh echoed through the house as well. The footsteps stopped. Muffled voices could be heard. Then a yawn was heard, it was closer then the voices upstairs.
Leaving his paperwork, books and marking, sliding his chair across the laminate floor, then rising from his seat, swiftly moving to the living room. The television was still playing, the muffled voices and cartoon pictures. His eyes averted to the sofa. A little boy was laid across his stomach, elbows propped and his head resting on his hands. He had short brown hair, spiked naturally after resting on the sofa ledge. His brown eyes were attached to the screen. And small toys were scatted and entwined around the furniture and floorboards.
The young boy muffled a laugh that soon turned into another yawn.
Shuffling towards the television, he gently switched it off. Turning to his son he saw the wide eyed expression he held. Neither falling or settling for it, he gently spoke brief words of his explanation.
"Time for bed mate."
Clearly not impressed, he was enjoying the show. The young boy opened his mouth about to argue back.
"Daddy." He whined.
"No arguments. Come on." He walked towards the boy. Picking him up and resting him on his shoulder. His fingers tickling the boys back. Making him squirm under his grip. However, every time he wriggled, he held him closer. Making sure he wouldn't fall.
In one swift movement the boy was soon resting upon his fathers hip bone. His head resting in the crook of his neck perfectly. Eyelids dropping and tiredness kicking in. Another yawn.
He made it quickly up the stairs, his feet padding softly across the floorboards. Reaching a door that marked the words, 'Little Legs' a name he was nicknamed by both his mother and father. When he would run around the garden, his little legs carried him, chasing after his mum. Then tackling his dad to the ground.
The door was swept open and a light blue room was revealed. The light switched on to a dimmer. A small golden glow settled across the room. The young boy was placed on the floor. His little legs holding him up, just about, in his tired state.
"I'll be back in a moment. Start getting your PJ's on." His father whispered softly in his ear. It wasn't a time for shouting or loud talking. More a time for settling down.
Making his way over the hallway, his feet stopped outside another door. Knocking gently he gradually open it. Taking the smallest of peeps through the gap.
His wife and his daughter sat on a bed. A story book in hand, one that had been read a hundred and one times before.
Both their heads turned as they noticed his appearance. I warming smile etched upon both faces, a matching smile. Just like her mother and in so many other ways. Brown hair that hung just below the shoulders. Caramel eyes and the same shaped nose. A spitting image.
Looking back down at her daughter she smiled and closed the book. Placing a kiss onto her forehead and whispering the words, "Night Night."
She got off the bed, making her way to the door, but was stopped. By a quite and tired voice. "Mummy."
Turning her head to look back to her daughter, she began to speak. "Yes love."
"Can I have you pick my sock up, it fell off the bed."
Noticing a little stripy sock at the side of the bed, she went over, bent down and picked it up. Lifted the duvet up slightly and placing the sock back on her daughters feet. "You like these socks don't you." She laughed and it was echoed back.
"Yep."
"Because they're all stripy." She finished with a yawn.
Making her way back to the door, he whispered into her ear. "Remind you of anyone, Lawson?"
"No, remind me." She answered back with edge of cheekiness.
"Leave my socks alone. Why? Because they're stripy." He announced the words back. Surprised he'd remembered from all that time ago.
"You still remember that?"
"Yeah."
"Well, now it's little stripy socks, Lawson."
"Like mother, like daughter."
He said in hushed tones. Closing the door behind them, they both went to check on their son. Sneaking a head round the door, they noticed he was fast asleep. Out like a light.
"Hmm, like father, like son." She said to him, before making her way downstairs, with him following swiftly behind.
A few things had changed in the last few years. Two children and getting married. However, some things just remained the same.
