A peal of laughter lifts into the air as little Tommy is rolled across the bed, coming to a stop at his mother's lap. She uses a hand to gentle bring him to rest on his back facing up at her. She gives a wide smile and make a face before moving to tickle him. Legs and arms are flailing as he giggles uncontrollably.

"Muuuh-muh-muh" Tommy hums out the moment he's given breath to do so.

"That's right. 'Mama'. Mama Tickles Tommy~" Kristin laughed out as she poked Tommy's cheek with a finger.

He reached for her hand, but before he could grab hold his mother slide her hand under him and was rolling him back from where he'd started from. Fresh laughter lit the air at this and a moment later a dizzy Tommy came to another giggling stop, this time at his father's leg.

"Dadadadada" Tommy babbled before letting out a delighted squeal.

"Yeah, that's right, Toms. 'Dada', your favorite parent." Phil grinned, moving a finger to boop at Tommy's nose.

"You guys are barely doing anything but play with Tommy." Wilbur complained with a huff as he tossed a pair of mismatched socks back onto the pile, which was directly between his parents and currently being flattened more and more as the baby was rolled over it.

The family was each positioned around the parents bed, a large mound of laundry placed in the middle. It wasn't uncommon for 'family laundry time' after a few weeks of it being ignored for various reasons.

Beside Wilbur was a small pile he'd managed to fold himself of his own clothes, as he was expected to do by now. Techno, however, had a dilapidated mound near him of what he was attempting to fold. Not because he was expected to, but because he'd decided he was a 'big boy' like Wilbur and could therefore fold his own as well. It was most likely going to have to be refolded by one of their parents, but for the time being they were content to let Techno practice.

Both Kristin and Phil had larger and far more stable piles of their own near them. However, Wilbur hadn't been lying when he called them out. The pair of them had been rolling Tommy back and forth between them for the better part of twenty minutes or so, ignoring any further progress to the chores. Tommy himself seemed thrilled by this. Wilbur not so much.

"Our piles are farther ahead, we can afford the break." Phil chuckled as he proceeded to make little 'boop' noises every time he poked Tommy either on the nose or cheek.

Tommy's hands weaved back and forth in an attempt to catch his father's hands in his own, however, his grabby little fingers were easy to dodge. It wasn't long before He was rolling back towards his mother anyway, giggling all the while.

"How's he not dizzy?" Techno asked with a small frown as he watched, discarded shirt sitting in his lap.

"Being dizzy is half the fun." Their mother replied as she paused Tommy once more on his back staring up at her, "Isn't that right?"

Her 'goo-goo' baby voice have Tommy's face beaming in joy as he reached up to her. Tommy tried to roll himself onto his stomach, one arm still stretched out towards his mother. It was a clumsy attempt to right himself that ended with him barely getting on his side before his mother was rolling him back towards his father.

This time his peal of laughter came out garbled and a trail of drool was left in his wake…right over the socks. While neither parent seemed to either take notice or care of this Wilbur most certainly did.

"Ewwww! My Socks!" He whined loudly, trying to grab at the few socks in the pile that he could see were his.

He looked at one particular sock he'd pulled free, a favorite cat patterned one, that had an obvious moist line already seeping into it. He looked up to his mother with a clearly repulsed look on his face. When he failed to have her attention he made short huffed pitched grunt noise to show his displeasure at the situation. When his mother looked his way he made sure to hold his sock up to be clearly seen.

"It's only a bit of spit, Wil. Its fine." She tried to assure him, but this only made his frown grow more firm.

"Its not! Its gross! I don't want to walk around in baby spit!" He complained, now shaking the sock in the air for good measure.

"Wil, don't yell at your mother. She's right. Its just a bit of spit. You wont even notice." His father tried to likewise assure his son.

However, his eldest just wasn't having it. Wilbur set a firm scowl on his face, aiming it at his parents both with his sock now tight in a fist in his grasp. He did not want to wear baby spit. End of story. It was gross.

However, before Wilbur could unleash his impending rant at his parents his other brother spoke up first. Techno, who sat almost between Wil and their mother, was looking at Wilbur with a raised brow of genuine confusion.

"You let Tommy eat your fingers all the time. You already wear his spit." He stated bluntly, earning a snorted laugh from their father.

"B-but-that's different!" Wilbur insisted, his attention now on Techno, "I can wash my hands after that so I'm not wearing it!"

"Wilbur, lower you voice. There's no need to shout. Its just a sock. If it bothers you that much just toss it back in the bin." His father stated with a slight sigh in his voice.

"Not sure when I'll get to do another full load though. Unless your father gets to it earlier in the week." His mother warned him as she started to dig for the match.

Wilbur breathed deeply at this, both to keep his angry words in and to consider his mother's warning. He loved his cat socks. They were cozy warm and the cats were cute. He wanted to wear them…he wanted his cat socks.

"Why can't we just wash them now?" Wilbur asked, is former scowl now dipping into a pout.

"Because we just did all this and there aren't enough dirty clothes to make a full load." His father replied in between making noises at Tommy as he patted the child's tummy.

"...I can make-"

"Do not make dirty clothes just to make a load, Wilbur, I swear to god-"

Kristin couldn't help but laugh at that, even if she thought it might encourage Wilbur to do it anyway. It was certainly a 'Wil' thing to do.

"But-"

"No 'buts', Wilbur. You can either accept they aren't dirty, or wait for the next load to be done." His father stated firmly and leaving no room argue further.

Wilbur's pout morphed his whole face to show his annoyance and upset at the whole situation. However, his parents didn't seem to be budging on the matter. With an agitated huff Wilbur threw his sock down into formerly empty laundry bin by his side.

He was not wearing baby spit.

"Btha-btha-ba" Tommy babbled, eyes looking around at his gathered family, not understanding the mood going on.

Why would he care about that when there was a soft fuzzy in his hand that was just begging chewed on? He was having a bit of trouble pulling it up, but he didn't mind. He giggled up at his father, a bright smiling face that made noises just for him. The soft was just about at his mouth when his hand was tugged sharply, the soft almost leaving him.

"That's mine!" Wilbur was complaining again as he tried to pull the sock from Tommy's hand, "You already spat on my cats, you don't get to eat the puppies!"

"Wilbur! Be careful, he just a baby!" His father scolded, a hand going out to try and catch his son's hand before anything bad happened.

Little Tommy also was yelling at Wilbur, a bubbled sound of disapproval as he tried to tug the soft thing back to himself. His face was now twisted into an annoyed frown, his brow furrowed and matching his eldest brother's own.

"Btha-btha-ba!" Tommy whined out as he tugged once more, mouth open so as to stuff the soft into it as soon as he had it back.

However, it wasn't meant to be as with another sharp tug Wilbur reclaimed his footwear with an angry grunt. With a sharp scolding from their father about being careful of Tommy's hands, the small child in question flailed his now empty fist with a huffy grumble.

A torrent of angry baby sounds were made as Tommy attempted his best glare at his brother, his face growing red from his building irritation at the loss of the 'soft'. Even the soft words from above him and the patting to his stomach wasn't enough to quell the growing storm in his gut.

"Come on, Tommy. Its just a sock. Look, you can have this one. I'm used to wearing baby spit anyway from your brothers." Phil tried to comfort the now very displeased infant by handing him a green colored sock.

This wasn't enough, however. Tommy had wanted that 'soft' and was ever so insulted that his brother would take it from him. How dare. The absolute nerve.

Tommy opened his mouth and let his brother know all about his displeasure at the turn of events. Wilbur wasn't at all bothered and instead ignored the child as he worked to dig out any other of his socks before the small little monster got his hands on them.

This was certainly not going to work. Tommy needed his brother to know his anger. He tried to reach for the other, but his father's hand on his stomach kept him still. Hands flailing out uselessly Tommy could do little aside from his shouting. That was, until his brother had dig into the pile right beside him.

An uncoordinated hand was quick in bumping against Wilbur's wrist before the familiar tiny fingers gripped tightly however they could manage. Opening his mouth again Tommy stared with heat at his brother who was now partially leaned over him.

"Btha-ba!" He shouted with a grumble, "Ehi hi ahgarra eiyei-"

Once he started it didn't seem like he was going to stop now that he had his brother's attention.

Wilbur was rolling his eyes as he tried to pull his hand away. However, his mother stopped him with a gentle hand over his. When Wil looked up at her with confusion he was met with a look of excitement and joy on her face. This only made his confusion grow of course.

"Tommy. Heeey, Tommy." She started to coo, getting an almost begrudging look from the child as he panted from the effort of his 'rant', "Tommy. Who is this?"

As she asked she took her hand off of Wilbur's and placed it instead on his head. Wilbur tilted enough to show his mother his raised brow before looking back down at his little brother. Tommy was looking back up at the pair, still huffing but his eyes moved from their mother and down to Wilbur.

"Who is this, Tommy? Can you tell me?" Kristin asked again, her heart tight with a fluttering feeling from what she'd thought she'd so clearly heard.

She patted Wilbur's head again to emphasize her question and looked at the small being with barely hidden giddiness.

With his rant over and anger seeming to pass quickly Tommy's face rippled with a newly forming smile, catching it from his mother's own face. He reached upwards as his lips parted.

"Btha-btha-ba" He stated with a confidence of all his months alive.

Phil looked to Kristin as she looked to him, his a look of bewildered shock and hers of unyielding elation. Wilbur looked down at his brother with a look to match his father's, lips parted in shock and eyes wide. Tommy continued to reach up towards him, a giggle escaping him at the look his brother carried.

"Btha-ba" Tommy stated again, this time with an added squeal at the end as he felt his father's hand on his stomach moving again.

Tommy's attention was pulled from his brother and to his father, the words 'Dada' falling from him with ease.

"What's going on?" Techno asked, unsure of why both his parents were now acting thrilled.

It wasn't like Tommy hadn't baby talked at them before. He does it all the time. Honestly he rarely seems to stop.

"He was saying Wilbur's name." His mother cooed out, though Techno didn't believe it.

"It didn't sound like his name." Techno pointed out as he tilted his head.

"He doesn't know many sounds yet. But that was him trying." His mother tried to explain as she moved to pick Tommy up.

"My name?" Wilbur questioned in a quiet breath.

It…it hadn't sounded like his name but…Tommy had reached for him. Was…was he really trying to say his name? His name?

Shifting to be closer to Tommy, who was now being held in their mother's arms, Wilbur brought his hands up against Tommy's cheeks, making sure the child was looking at him.

"Tommy. Say 'Wilbur'." He directed, only for the small being to bubble up spit at him before laughing at it.

Wilbur gave a disgusted look before taking a breath.

"Wil, he's not going to be able to say it properly yet. He's still just a baby. He's only got so many teeth to use." His father tried to console, but Wilbur didn't seem to care.

"Toms." Wil started, his voice more serious as he looked directly into his youngest brother's face, "Say Wilbur."

"…Btha-btha-ba-bfffph-" Tommy babbled out with a spray of more bubbles at the end.

He seemed rather pleased with himself about that.

"He'll get the sounds eventually, but he's trying." Kristin assured her son with a giddiness in her voice that refused to fade.

"I want him to say my name." Techno suddenly insisted as he attempted to crawl over the mound of abandoned clothing in his way.

"Even if he says it, he still said mine first." Wilbur bragged with a grin to Techno.

It wasn't what Wil considered his name to be, but if it was Tommy's best attempt, then he could still be excited about that. If the fluttering mess in his tummy was anything to go by, he could, by all means, still be excited about that.

Xx-xx-xx-xx

Much later in the day, just before it was time for bed, Phil walked through the house with a mild confusion and spark of concern at the lack of one of his children. Wilbur had already been cornered by his wife and was in the middle of being prepped for sleep. But for the life of him Phil couldn't seem to get eyes or ears on where Techno had gone to. He'd assumed the five year old was in his room like usual at this time, but when he'd gone looking Phil found nothing.

He was on his second pass over of the house and just about to check his own room if, for some reason, Techno had decided to sneak in there. However, as he drew closer a sound managed to catch his ear. It was an exasperated tone, one he knew well but…it was coming from Tommy's room.

Moving towards the door with care to be quiet Phil opened the door the tiniest crack and peered inside. Tommy was supposed to be asleep by now, but he wasn't exactly surprised when he looked in and saw the child sitting up in his crib. What did surprise him though, was that Techno was sat before it, face practically pressed against the mesh wall of it.

"Tech-no" He huffed out with a frown at the child before him.

"Ehi-ei-ei-o" Tommy tiredly trialed out, barely paying attention to his brother.

While he was awake and sitting up he was clearly exhausted and disinterested at this point. Techno let out another annoyed sigh at his perceived failure, leaning further forwards and now pressing his face against the mesh entirely.

While a chuckle to himself Phil entered the room and moved to pick Techno up. He didn't say a word and Techno didn't fuss at being removed from the floor, hugging to his father with a pout.

"Lets give it another try in the morning, after you've both got some rest." Phil suggested, to which he was met only with a slow nod from his son.

Before he walked off with Techno Phil made sure to reach down and pat Tommy on the head, carefully try to get him to lay back down. He'd have to send Kristin back in to him once Wilbur was in bed.