Anonymous requested: "Toddler olive learns a naughty word or two? (and maybe not all of them from Haymitch!)"
"Dammit!"
At first, he thought he'd heard her wrong. He wanted to have heard her wrong. And as Haymitch Abernathy stared warily down at the giggling fifteen month old, he wanted to be wrong. Oh how Effie was going to murder him when she discovered that he'd gone and "spoiled" their child's innocence. Maybe he should have listened to Hazelle Hawthorne in the first place when she tried to warn him of a child's vast ability to mimic their parents' speech. Too late now.
"No," Haymitch sighed, lifting the toddler up. "Olive, you don't use that word."
"Dammit!" Olive replied happily, unaware of the severity in what she was saying. "Dammit!"
"C'mon, kid," Haymitch muttered, readjusting her in his arms. "Your mother is going to have me stoned if she hears that word come out of your mouth. I'm sorry, alright? It won't happen again. How about you find a new favorite word?"
Carefully, he took a seat on the couch keeping a firm hold on the squirming child. Effie was going to return home from the market at any moment now. He hadn't much time. If the kid had picked up on that word so quickly then how hard would it be to get her hooked on another? Turning the chubby toddler to face him, Haymitch looked her in the eyes.
"What about…" he thought for a moment. "Dog," he settled. "Can you say dog, Olive? Dog."
But the baby seemed far more interested with his shirt buttons than with what he was trying to teach her. Inhaling, the old victor tried to think of another thing that might catch on quickly with his daughter. Something that would easily steer clear from the curse word.
"Banana," he explained, taking her hands in his own. "C'mon, kid, you love to mush that crap into your hair almost as much as you like eating them. How about banana. Does that work, Half Pint? Ba-na-na?"
Olive smiled, smacking her fingers against her palms as she reached for Haymitch's nose. She was completely, undeniably uninterested in anything he had to say. His eyes flickered over to the click, taking a note of the time. Any minute. He was becoming desperate.
"Chocolate. Toads. Pink." he rambled off, shaking his head when each response got him nothing. "Lemon. Bread. Cat. Wig. Manners. Mahogany?! You're killing me, Half Pint. Just choose something. Anything!"
It was at that moment that the front door creaked open. Haymitch watched silently as Effie trotted into the household, a huge smile on her face as she lugged behind her two heavy looking bags of groceries. At least her mood seemed to be decent. For now. Maybe his death would be more merciful.
"Hey," he greeted. "Store visit went as planned?"
"Better than what I had anticipated it would be," she replied, placing the bags on the counter. "I actually managed to find the right ingredients to make my casserole tonight." Haymitch was too concerned to even care about the horrors of Effie's cooking as she made her way over to them. "And how was my perfect little darling?"
"Good," Haymitch replied. "But I wouldn't consider myself perfect. Or little either. Darling I could do."
Effie threw him a look, "You know who I meant." Her eyes fell onto Olive who smiled happily at her mother, chubby arms extended for her to be held. Effie obliged and scooped the babbling baby up. "How are you this morning, my lovely?"
And as if on cue, Olive looked directly into her mother's eyes. Haymitch could feel his impending doom approach as the child's mouth opened, the word slipping from her tongue that he swore to never use again so long as he lived. Maybe.
"Dammit!"
Oh how he wanted to just disappear...
xXx
"A what?"
It was still dark outside when Effie roused Haymitch from his slumber. Blinking wearily, the old victor eyed the once escort incredulously as she held out what looked like a fruit canning jar with a label taped neatly across its middle. He grunted, pushing himself up into a sitting position as Effie flicked on the side table lamp.
"A swear jar," she repeated, holding it obnoxiously close to his face. "You've left this family with no choice."
"You act as if I murdered someone," Haymitch mumbled, waving his hand in front of him in an attempt to move her back. "Can't this wait until the morning?"
"No," Effie stated abruptly. "Haymitch, this is serious. After yesterday's…incident…I think it's important that we establish some sort of penalty system in this household to cease the usage of curse words," she handed him the jar before he could reply and began to pace back and forth. "Now, I know you aren't always at fault-though you usually are-for I too have used some foul language."
"I don't think 'drat' or 'darn' really fall into those categories, Princess," Haymitch exhaled, finding it still too early in the morning to really function.
"Well, I don't think Olive should be using any sort of negative interjection when something happens to her," Effie explained. "Which is why I want to implement the swear jar!" She pointed to the preserves' bottle. "How this works, is that when either of us-and Olive when she comes of age-says something that is deemed a curse word, we put a dollar in. And after what happened yesterday, you get to put in two dollars every time our daughter says that horrid word you taught her."
"So for the hel…" he caught himself. "For the fun of it. Let's say we actually go through with this. Where does the money we put in the jar go?"
"Towards Olive's higher education fund," she said with a smile. "After all, we really do need to start saving up for that. And why not with this plan? Killing a bird with two stones, as I always say."
"It's killing two birds with one stone," Haymitch groaned. "And you never say that. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"Fine," Effie said. "But this starts as soon as the sun comes up, yes?"
"Yeah, yeah," Haymitch mumbled, burying himself under the covers. "I hear you."
xXx
"Into the jar!" Effie sang out. "Right now, Haymitch Abernathy! We had a deal!"
Haymitch had barely began to enjoy his usual oatmeal when the baby decided to sing out her new favorite word the moment Effie waltzed into the kitchen. Almost instantly, that stupid jar was thrust into his face and would not budge until it was properly paid its charge.
"You sure you didn't mishear her," Haymitch mumbled, trying to get a spoon of his food past the jar and into his mouth. "Sounding more like 'damsel' to me."
"In, in, in," Effie said, shaking the object in his face. "You promised!"
"Woman, I just fuc-I just woke up. Give me a moment to enjoy my food in peace," Haymitch grumbled, scraping his spoon against the bottom of the bowl.
"Fines wait for no one," Effie chided. "I suppose I'll go into the bedroom and withdraw the correct amount of coinage from your wallet myself."
He didn't even bother to interject as Effie walked out of the room, lugging the pocket-change-guzzling thing with her. Haymitch shook his head, finally taking a bit of his oatmeal. At this rate, the whole damn jar would be filled by this evening due to his "atrocious mouth and the influences he posed on their daughter". Exhaling, he looked at his daughter who was happily rubbing bits of banana across her face.
"Hope you enjoy your education, kid," he mumbled, reaching forward to wipe off the smudges of fruit puree from her cheeks. "Because it's all coming out of my damn liquor fund."
"I heard that," shouted Effie off in the distance. "That's another dollar for you, Haymitch Abernathy!"
Dammit.