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Boween in the Nursery: Part One


by nurseryteacher28

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“It's my birthday! It's my birthday! It's –”

      “Shasta, we know it's your birthday; you've been running around the house yelling that for the past two hours. Aren't you tired yet?” I sighed as I watched my baby Ogrin fling himself off the blue sofa and land squarely on his brother.

      The baby Grarrl started to cry, “Papa!” he wailed. “Make Shasta stop bein' so crazy! He hurt my paw!”

      “Aw, Tyto, don't be such a baby!” Shasta retorted, his forepaws planted firmly on his brother's shoulders.

      I sighed and ran a hand through my hair as I picked my way through the minefield of toys across the room, then plucked Shasta off Tyto and replaced him on the floor, saying, “Shasta, you have to calm down now. You hurt Tyto, and earlier you almost knocked Lucy down the stairs. I know you're excited, but it's not going to be much fun if all three of your siblings have to spend your birthday in the hospital.”

      Shasta sighed and looked glumly at his forepaws. He was about to say something when all of a sudden an enormous ball of red wrapping paper wandered into the room. I laughed. Apparently Danby had had a little trouble wrapping Shasta's gift; he was tangled up firmly in paper, sticky tape, and string, and was struggling to wriggle his way free. I unwrapped my baby Shoyru, and his tiny green head popped out. He blinked once and looked up.

      “Papa,” he said quietly, “me an' Lucy need help... we can't get this whole wrapping business figured out.”

      I chuckled again as I removed the rest of the paper, then hoisted Danby into my arms and carried him upstairs. Looking back at Shasta, I smiled. “Don't try following us, little one; you don't want to spoil the surprise.”

      Shasta, who had already scrambled to his feet in anticipation of doing just that, dropped back on his haunches and sighed. “Well, hurry up,” he said impatiently. “I'm tired of waitin'.”

      Stepping into my kids' room, I gasped; the floor was covered in rolls of wrapping paper that had been strewn about the room. All four cots had been strung up with red, blue, and yellow ribbon, and even Tyto's teddy bear was hanging from the railing of his cot by its neck, tangled in blue ribbon and bits of sticky tape. In the far corner a small figure wormed its way free of a mound of paper, and soon enough the little purple head of my baby Kacheek emerged, looking slightly flustered.

      “Papa,” she said, “I think me an' Danby need some help...”

      That was the understatement of the year. That was the last time I ever trusted babies to try and wrap birthday presents, or any other gifts for that matter. I should have known it would be a disaster, but when Danby asked me, the only thing I could pay attention to were those enormous green eyes pleading with me, the ones that were so good at melting my heart.

      I put Danby down and surveyed the wreckage; it would take a good hour or more to clean this up, and I knew for certain that Shasta wouldn't have that kind of patience. I decided to hurry up and wrap the last of his gifts, then clean the place up later while they were busy playing.

      “Danby, Lucy,” I said as I ushered my kids out the door, “you two go downstairs and play with your brothers. Daddy will be down in a minute.” I watched until they reached the end of the hall and began crawling slowly backwards down the stairs, then returned to the problem at hand.

      The wrapping took much longer than anticipated, because I had to track down everything I needed from amongst the heaps of paper and tape, but eventually I made it downstairs and added the gifts to the pile before heading into the kitchen to pull the Baby Scorchio Milk Cake from the refrigerator. I stepped back into the nursery where my kids were busy playing and said, “Okay, guys, cake's up.” I had never seen them move so fast in my life.

      Helping them one by one into their yellow chairs around the kitchen table, I handed out Bruce bottles while simultaneously sticking two birthday candles into the cake, right on top of the Scorchio's head. We sang Happy Birthday, and I managed to get a total of two decent pictures before the cake was obliterated. I looked forward to the day when my kids would be old enough to understand patience.

      As soon as Shasta and Lucy started flicking icing at one another, I knew it was time to pull the plug, and so, going around the table with my wet sponge, I removed as much cake from sticky hands and faces as I could before ushering them into the nursery for presents.

      “Here,” Tyto mumbled from behind his bottle. “Do this one first, Shasta; I picked it special.”

      Shasta obliged his brother and tore at the sparkly silver paper, eventually producing a baby Bruce pull-along toy. He smiled as he spun its wheels, then put it down on the floor and clutched the string in his mouth, trotting around the room as he pulled it along behind him proudly. “Thanks, Tyto,” he mumbled, returning to his spot on the carpet and letting the string drop.

      Tyto smiled. “Y'welcome,” he said, replacing his bottle in his mouth.

      “Do mine next, do mine next!” Lucy squealed as she thrust a green package, one of the ones I'd wrapped not an hour before, towards her brother.

      Shasta tore into it with vigour and pulled out a baby Bori plushie. Gripping it in his teeth, he shook it hard, tossing it across the room, then tearing off and pouncing on it. Trotting back holding his prize firmly in his teeth, he dropped the soggy plushie next to Tyto's pull-along toy and smiled. “Thanks, Lucy,” he said as he dropped back onto his haunches and awaited the next gift.

      Danby pushed his present forward with effort; it was large and required all the strength he had in his tiny body to get it the two feet across the floor to Shasta.

      Shasta struggled to get it open, standing on his hind legs to tear the red paper to shreds. Finally he revealed a large wooden rocking Uni painted blue and red. He beamed as he scrambled up onto its back and clung to its white woollen mane. “Hey, this is really cool!” he said excitedly as he swayed back and forth, tilting farther and farther until I was afraid he'd tip the whole thing over. I was relieved that it was such a success, however, as it meant that I was able to fish my gift, which was starting to wriggle its way free of the cardboard carrier it was currently housed in, out from behind the sofa without anyone noticing anything peculiar.

      “Okay, Shas,” I said as I rested the box on the floor. “Last one. I think you'll enjoy it, though.” I watched with bated breath as Shasta slid off the rocking Uni and approached the box. It shuffled forward an inch and tipped clean over, letting out an indignant squeak as it did so. Shasta backed up quickly, glancing at me nervously as if afraid I'd wrapped a poisonous Spyder up for him. I chuckled at my kids, who all wore the same stiff expression of uncertain curiosity mixed with mild fear. Finally Shasta tore the ribbon off and the occupant of the box tumbled out.

      A little blue Boween sat dazed in the middle of the room. It was as big as Shasta, and the little Ogrin was delighted. He picked it up and squeezed it, and I watched with some concern as its eyes bulged out of its head and it squeaked again. Lucy and Danby crowded around to get a better look, and I was beginning to think it was a success until I felt something small ram into my shin and latch firmly onto my leg.

      I sighed. I didn't even have to look down to know that my newly acquired cling-on was none other than a tiny Grarrl who was scared of his own shadow. Reaching down and prying Tyto off me slowly, I hoisted him into my arms and asked, “What's wrong, Tyto? Don't you like Shasta's new petpet?”

      He trembled and gasped and clung to my neck for several moments, making me feel like Shasta's suffocated Boween, then finally stammered, “Wh-wh-what is that thing, Papa? It-it's so weird an' big an' scary! I don't want it here! Can't you get Shasta a present that won't eat me?”

      I had to laugh; the Boween was less than a foot tall, but to my kids, who were not much bigger themselves, this strange creature must seem enormous. Cradling Tyto in my arms, I walked across the room and sat down on the blue sofa, keeping half an eye on my other kids as they argued over names. “It's okay, Tyto,” I began, “the lady at the Petpet Shop said that Boweens are the friendliest petpets around. He won't try to eat you, or do anything else to you, for that matter. Look, Lucy, Shasta, and Danby all like him, and he's not hurting them.”

      Tyto, still clinging to my collar, glanced over his shoulder quickly at the furry creature, who was busy wobbling around and sniffing various pieces of furniture while the kids chased him around the room, seeing if they could herd him back to the middle of the carpet. Tyto swung around and buried his snout in my chest.

      Knowing Tyto, I could tell he was going to cry, so I thought fast and, perhaps not using my best judgement, left my other three in the nursery alone with the Boween as I carried my little Grarrl upstairs for a break.

      We sat on my bed and read for a while, Tyto turning the pages for me as I recited the words to stories I'd read a hundred times, not really paying attention to what I was reading. I was too busy thinking. What was I going to do about Shasta's petpet? I couldn't return it now, not when he was so in love with it, but it was evident that Tyto was not going to be able to live in the same space as the fuzzy little creature comfortably for a long time, perhaps ever. As we reached the end of Scaredy Acara, one of Tyto's favourites, my mind wandered back to the last time I'd had to help Tyto overcome one of his irrational fears; I'd tried to take him to nursery school, and that didn't end up too well, at least until he met Dylan. It was the little Scorchio who wouldn't take Tyto's fear for an answer who eventually managed unknowingly to coax Tyto into taking the plunge. Now, three months later, I could take him in and drop him off, and get nothing more than a, “Bye Papa, love you!” before walking out the door. Perhaps, I thought, perhaps I could get Dylan to help again... it was worth a shot.

      After leaving Tyto upstairs in his room with the little white lie that Boweens couldn't climb stairs, I returned to the nursery to see what had become of my other three. They were all sitting in a circle around the petpet, who had curled up and gone to sleep in the middle of the floor, whispering and giggling to one another.

      As soon as they heard my approach, they all scrambled up and ran to me, latching onto my legs and trying to talk over one another.

      “Papa, guess what we named the Boween!” Lucy said excitedly as she dangled from my trouser leg.

      “Lucy, let me tell 'im! He's my petpet!” Shasta demanded, rearing up on his hind legs to get my attention.

      Trying not to trip over my pets as I walked, I shuffled over to the sofa and sat down, lifting them one by one onto the cushions beside me so I could focus on them better while they talked.

      “Go on, Shasta, tell me what you named him,” I said, intrigued.

      The little Ogrin puffed out his chest proudly. “Norman,” he replied, obviously very pleased with himself.

      I stifled a laugh that would've hurt his feelings and glanced down at the furry mound now snoring loudly in the middle of my living room. He did look like a Norman, I supposed. Turning back to Shasta, I said, “Norman. I like that; it suits him.”

      Shasta smiled proudly, straightening up regally at my praise. “Thanks,” he said. “I thinked of it all by myself.”

      “No, you didn't!” Danby interrupted from the other side of the sofa. “It was my idea; you just stoled it!”

      “Nuh-uh! Danby!” Lucy interjected hotly. “I was the one who wanted to call it Norma if it was a girl, you just put an 'n' at the end an'-”

      I cut them off before things got too heated. “It doesn't matter who thought of the name; the point is you helped each other out, and I think you all did a great job. Now, I'm going upstairs to set up Norman's bed. There's a bag of food and a bowl on the floor in the kitchen. Why don't you three feed and water him for me?”

      They looked at each other curiously for a moment, then Lucy said, “Okay, Papa,” and with that the three of them bounded off the sofa and scrambled into the kitchen, dragging the now very awake Norman with them.

      After poking my head in to check on Tyto, who was playing quietly with his plushies in the middle of his room, I crossed the hall to my bedroom and began arranging the petpet's new living quarters. After a moment, though, I became distinctly aware of the sound of running water coming from downstairs, much more water than would be needed to fill a bowl for a Boween.

      Warily I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, where I was horrified to find the tile floor flooded, and my three kids standing on one another's shoulders, using the mini hose from the sink to drench Norman, who huddled, wet and terrified, at Shasta's feet, too scared to move.

      “What on earth are you guys doing?!” I screamed, startling them so much that they toppled to the floor. Lucy, who was standing on Danby who was sitting on Shasta's back, crashed to the floor with a loud thud, dropping the hose and spraying the countertops with water. I ran to turn the water off and turned quickly to stare at my very soggy pets.

      Shasta, his fur dripping, approached me guiltily, his head hanging, “Y-you told us to water Norman, so we did.”

      For several moments I couldn't think of a thing to say. I stood there, my mouth agape, until I did the only thing I could think of. I laughed. Howling with mirth, tears rolling down my face, I finally caught my breath and managed to gasp, “You-you actually thought, you actually thought I wanted you to drench the petpet in water like a flower? Oh, guys, that, that's...” I couldn't decide what that was, so I settled for scooping them all up at once, drenching my shirt with water, and squeezing them, still chuckling. When I put them down, I said, “Okay, for future reference, 'water Norman' means put water in his bowl, not spray him like a houseplant, okay?”

      Lucy, Shasta, and Danby nodded, relieved that they weren't in trouble, but a little confused as to what I'd found so uproariously amusing.

      I sent them off to play, then went about mopping the kitchen floor so no one would slip and break their necks later. That task complete, I gingerly picked up the sopping petpet, who had been huddling under the kitchen table shivering, and carried him upstairs to blow dry him off. When I was done, he looked like a blue Evil Fuzzle plushie. As I was carrying him back down the hall, Tyto appeared in the doorway of his room. When he saw Norman, he dropped the toys he was carrying, and bolted down the hall to the nearest safe zone, the laundry room, and slammed the door behind him.

      Hurriedly I shut Norman in my room and went to find my son. Knocking lightly on the door, I said, “Tyto, it's me. I put Norman in my room; can I come in?”

      Silence for several moments, then a very quiet, muffled reply came. “Sure, but close the door behind you. I don't want Shasta's dumb ol' petpet 'scaping an' gettin' in here.”

      I smiled and stepped inside quietly to find Tyto perched on top of the dryer, quite a feat considering it was four feet taller than he was. He sat with his tail wrapped around his feet and his face buried in his paws, trembling miserably.

      I sighed and picked him up gently. “Oh, Tyto,” I said. “What are we going to do about this?”

      Tyto looked up at me staring with those enormous green eyes. “That's easy,” he said quietly. “Just get rid of the Boween.”

      I stroked his head and sighed again. “You know we can't do that, Tyto. Shasta loves Norman.”

      Tyto buried his snout into my shoulder and whimpered, “Papa, I'm scared. I don't wanna hafta live with that silly ol' thing in the house. It might hurt me. Why'd'ya hafta go buy Shasta a petpet anyway? You always say we're too little for stuff like that.”

      He started to cry and I couldn't think of anything to say, so I stood there in the laundry room just holding him for a while. I knew that if my plan with Dylan was going to work, I'd have to do it quickly, so I murmured, “Hey Tyto, you want to see if Dylan can come over to play tomorrow? Maybe he'll take your mind off Norman for a bit.”

      Tyto sniffled and looked up. Rubbing his damp eyes with the back of his hand, he smiled just a little. “Okay,” he replied.

      I was about to say more when all of a sudden there came a crash against the door, and Shasta's voice calling, “Papa, Papa, have you seen Norman?”

      Opening the door, I looked down at Shasta and smiled. “Yeah, he's in my room. Come on, I'll find him for you.” Depositing Tyto back in his room, I led Shasta down the hall and he looked at me curiously.

      “Papa, why were you in the laundry room with the door closed?” he asked as he followed me into my room.

      “Oh, Tyto and I were just talking, that's all. There he is.” I pointed to a wriggling little ball of blue fluff trying to squirm its way out from under my bedsheets where it seemed to have got itself stuck. I rescued Norman and put him on the floor beside Shasta, who squeezed him tight and dragged him back downstairs saying, “I was worried I'd lost you, Norman. You can't just go running off like that” in a perfect imitation of my voice. I smiled; Shasta had heard that speech enough times by now to have it down pat.

To be continued...

 
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