The doorbell rang and Burt got up from the couch to pay the pizza guy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kurt scurrying over to the sink to wet a sponge. Kurt had been slowly restoring the kitchen, in between pouting, of course, but hearing that the pizza was here apparently lit a fire under him. Burt carried the pizza and soda in and assessed the kitchen. The flour had been cleaned up and Kurt was wiping up the syrup. The pots and pans had been put away and the stuffed animals were all in a pile at the door to the basement, presumably to take back down to his room later. Could have done worse, Burt mused.

When Kurt was finished with the syrup, he brought the sponge back to wash in the sink. Then he pushed the stool closer to the counter and climbed up on it. He picked up the recipe book and reached up high on tiptoes trying to put it back.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Burt asked

Kurt turned, looking at his dad like he had three heads. "…Putting the recipe book away."

The attitude is back, awesome. Burt crossed over to the stool and lifted his lithe son off of it and planted him back on the floor. "You're going to break your neck that way."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You told me to put everything away."

Burt sighed a deep sigh. This kid was going to drive him to drink. He struggled not to make this a fight. "Look, if you want to be able to look at the recipe book we can find another place for it. You don't need to be climbing up on all the counters."

Kurt eyed him. Burt pulled the stool back over to its proper place in the kitchen for good measure.

"…Maybe you should look at it sometimes." Kurt said, in a voice that showed he knew he was walking a tightrope here.

Burt groaned. "Yes you've made it clear you're not impressed with my cooking."

"Dad I've had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at school every day all year!"

Burt leaned against the wall. "Well… if you want something else we can—"

"Mike's family cooks for him every day! His lunch is always rice and chicken, or—"

Burt chuckled. "Kurt. Mike's family is Asian, of course he—"

"Well maybe I wish we were Asian then!"

Burt groaned. "Kurt, you're being ridiculous. You don't like peanut butter and jelly we'll come up with something else."

"Mike's mom picks him up after school every day. He doesn't have to sit around at the boring after school program."

Burt was getting a headache now. That after school program was digging hard into their budget, and little got him more irritated than listening to Kurt complain about it. If he was a kid he would have been thrilled to have a bunch of kids to play with every day after school. Why does my kid have to be so… different… all the time?

"Well Mike's mom isn't a mechanic with customers to worry about. Some kids would be thankful their dad spends money so they can go to a nice after school-"

"It's not nice. It's stupid."

"Well, until you can babysit yourself you're going, so knock it off."

"Everyone plays sports there. No one likes what I like."

Burt rolled his eyes. "I don't know what to tell you kiddo—"

"I want to stay with you at the tire shop."

Burt stared at his son. Never in his life would he have guessed Kurt would say that.

"…Since when are you interested in cars."

"I'm not. I… I just… I want to be with you." Kurt said quietly.

Oh.

"W-well we can't… Kurt, it's a workplace, I can't have a child running around—"

"I wouldn't run around. You took me there that day there was a snow day and I was good as gold, you said."

"There isn't anything for you—"

"I could do my homework there after school, and you wouldn't have to spend money on the after school program. And I'll keep my art pad and colored pencils and not bother none of your customers. And when you weren't busy, you can… tell me what carburetors are and stuff."

Burt chuckled, in spite of himself. "Are you being for real here?"

Kurt nodded. "I just… I'd rather be with you."

Burt pursed his lips. The kid had been through a lot. Maybe after losing your mom it was hard not being near family sometimes. That therapist Mr. Chang had talked him into bringing Kurt to would probably want them to talk about it. Burt had no problem sending his kid to a therapist, but the lady always wanted to talk with him after, and… he wasn't always real wild about getting parenting advice. It felt like criticism, and he was beating himself up about everything these days already.

"I'll think about it."

Kurt actually squealed and jumped up and down with a grin that Burt hadn't seen in a long while.

Burt smiled and put his arm around his son. "I said, I'd think about it."

"I know, I know. But you'll like having me there I promise."

Burt rolled his eyes. "Alright, young man. We can talk about this more later, but we have some business to attend to."

He lifted Kurt up and sat him on the counter.

"You know better than to be playing with the stove, young man."

"It wasn't playing—"

"Have I ever let you touch the stove when I wasn't around before?"

"W—well it's not like you were gone, you were just—"

"Uh huh. And I was so close by, and it was so not a big deal, yet you couldn't walk the ten feet out my door and get permission first?"

Kurt looked at the floor.

"You want to learn to cook stuff, we can arrange that. I can call Mike's mom tonight and tell her you want to learn to make the stuff she makes. I am all for you learning to be independent and doing what grown ups know how to do. That's why I taught you about changing tires. But you had no business using the stove without a grown up here and you know it."

Kurt pouted, not having a good argument for that.

"Look, Kurt, I don't want to talk about this any more than you do, but your mom and I always told you that being safe is number one. You may not be happy with me lately, but she wouldn't have wanted you playing with the stove without supervision either."

Kurt scowled. Talk about safety was never good.

"In this house little boys who forget the rules about safety get reminded the old-fashioned way. Children who play with fire need a little fire on their backside to make sure they never try it again."
"I wasn't playing with—" Kurt protested.

"Uh huh." Burt cut him off, picking him up off the counter and grabbing his hand. "I'm not fond of you making a mess, and I really don't like the attitude you've been showing me lately, young man. Any of that should have had you spending a good long time in your room at least, maybe no TV tonight. But I'm not messing around with safety. This isn't negotiable. You need a good spanking, and you're getting one."