Don't Wike Nuthin
By: Denise James
Blair crossed his little arms over his chest; his face was set with determination. Fiery little blue eyes stared at his father...there was no way he was backing down.
Jim sighed. "Son, you have to go to school today."
Loose auburn curls bobbed as the little one shook his head. "No....Me hates it. Me don't wike nuthin'."
The older man rolled his eyes. This had become the daily conversation over oatmeal.
"You do like school."
"Nope, Me don't luffs it. Me hates scoow." The little one twisted around in his seat away from his father, with little arms still crossed.
Jim took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He really didn't need this attitude this morning as he had enough on his plate with work and a trying case he was having problems solving. "I'll tell you what, what if I let you wear your cowboy boots to school today."
Blair turned hooded eyes to his father. "And me big jeans?"
Jim smiled. "Yes, you can wear your Levi's too, but you had better eat your breakfast before it gets cold."
Blair studied his bowl, his face showing his displeasure. He noticed that his oatmeal looked different. "Dis happles?"
"No, We're out of apples and cinnamon. This is maple and brown sugar." Jim ate a big bite making yummy motions on his stomach. "Ummmm, this is sooooo good."
Little eyes narrowed. Taking a tentative sniff at his bowl, Blair frowned. "Smells like yuck. Me fwow dis away." The little one made a show of getting up to throw his oatmeal away, the whole time his eyes never left his fathers face.
"Christopher Blair! I'm about tired of your fussy attitude young man. Now sit still and eat your breakfast."
"No. Me don't wike it. It stinks. Me don't wike nuthin'."
"Fine. Don't eat it. I don't want you to. I want you to be hungry at school alllllll day."
Jim stated before eating another bite. "Just leave the bowl alone and I'll eat it."
"NOOOOO!" Wild blue eyes flashed. "Mine. Me eats me oatsmeal." Then Blair frowned at his father. "You a mean daddy."
Shocked, Jim looked at his son, not quite believing that this child could possibly be "his" Blair. Pod child came to mind, but then the older man decided that he had been watching too many late night movies. Nope this was his reality, movie magic could never duplicate the complicated personality of his little Blair. "No son. If I were a mean father, I would lose my temper and tear your little bottom up."
Blair peeped at his father through thick lashes, a spanking was soooo not what he wanted.
"I don't know why you are being so ill this morning, but if you don't straighten up your act, there will be no Stargate tonight."
"Me sowwy daddy." Blair cocked his little head to the side and put on his most angelic face. "Me luffs you daddy. Me be gowd me pwomise."
Jim pointed at Blair with his spoon. "Okay, I'm going to hold you to that promise. Now eat."
Blair picked up his Winnie the Pooh spoon and tapped at the thickened oatmeal. His nose crinkled a bit, but a ventured peep at his father told him that he should at least taste his breakfast and make his father happy.
The smallest of bites found it's way into Blair's little mouth. He smacked experimentally taking in the new tastes. "Dis okay daddy, but me wikes me happles bettah."
"I know buddy, I'll pick up some more this afternoon okay?"
"You a gowd daddy." He nodded then took another bite. Chewing thoughtfully he asked, "Me watch Danny tonight? And Teaw'c and Jack and Sam? And the agleins with de big weapins?"
Jim smiled at his son's fascination with the Sci-Fi series. "Only if you're good."
Enthusiastically Blair bounced in his seat. "Me be the bestest gowd."
"Well you just do that then. So, are you about ready to get dressed for school?"
"Um humm." Blair stated around a mouthful of oatmeal. "Me wants to weaw me boots so me and Maphew Skawgs kin be twinkies."
"Does Matthew Skaggs have boots too?" Jim smiled, knowing that Matthew was Blair's best buddy at the daycare. The two kids were practically inseparable.
"Umm humm." He swallowed his oatmeal with a big, noisy gulp of milk: milk dripped from his little mouth and down his chin as he spoke. "He gots bwack ones wike me." Another bite and Blair laid his spoon in his bowl. "Me done daddy."
"All right then chief, let's get you dressed. It won't be long before we have to leave."
Blair ran to his little room, his small feet smacking noisily on the hardwood floor.
He came back out with his little cowboy boots in tow. "Hewe dey is daddy. Me finds dem in me woom." He beamed proudly as he held his prized boots up to his father.
"Well, don't you think we should find your clothes first? I don't think your boots would look very good with blue flannel footie jammies."
Blair made a show of rolling his eyes and placing his little hands on his hips. After a long sigh he looked at his father a little to seriously for a child of his age. "Daddy...Me don't weaws me jammies to scoow. Only babies do dat. Me a big boy me weaw me big jeans."
Ruffling too long curls, Jim grinned. "Yep, you are definitely a big boy, and getting bigger everyday." The last part saddened the older man for the briefest of moments, but soon his son's antics had him smiling again. With little Blair even daily routines were an adventure.
To be continued on another special day.....
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