Post by Celmaru Waterfield on Mar 26, 2019 4:23:01 GMT
"Papa, can we havvv -- pffbt -- ice creeeem?"
"We have sweets at home, sweetheart. Mommy can whip you up something nice then."
"But I wan' ice creeeeeeem nooooow!"
A particularly clamorous child shattered the silence of a local bookstore. This one, especially, had little regard for public mannerisms. Fortunately for some, a particular hybrid father was there to hush the child. It was Celmaru Waterfield's turn to handle the twins today. As dismaying this duty would appear to some, the hybrid couldn't be happier. It was only ever more joyous when the trio stood within the confines of a glorious establishment. Celmaru, in his joy, had to refrain from visibly beaming. Meanwhile, another child had chosen to lean against her father -- all but awake; snoozing away in a blissful early afternoon nap. Clutched within his right arm, the second child shifted to and fro, unaware of her sibling's complaints.
The child's sister was stomping upon the bookstore's carpet. As furious as a five year old could be, this one displayed it for all to witness. A broad palm impelled itself upon this daughter's head. A reasonable patting was in order, yes? A pearly-white locks of fuzzy, childish hair contorted and spun itself in all directions; in rejection, no less. An obvious pout marred her adorable round cheeks. A whine soon erupted from within. Does this child possess no manners? Celmaru clicked his tongue, primarily at himself, crouching down to meet his daughter. The child's sibling, of course, followed suit.
"If you continue as you are, you won't get anything."
"No. Waaaaant iiiiit nooooow!"
"Would you like to carry your sister and get nothing?"
Be firm to your children, right? Regardless, it wasn't much, though it certainly left that rowdy child pondering. How strange; she seems so enamored with her sister. However, Celmaru wasn't one to complain so soon. Briefly tapping upon his child's nose before rising, the hybrid eventually slipped a novel from a nearby shelf. The aforementioned child, in the meantime, sat herself down to consider her current conundrum. "Chronicles of the Wizened Writer: Latest Years & Age 890", some fan-related work, no doubt. The novel had minimal cover art, including minimal author's notes. What malarkey. The novel was swiftly slid back into its respective placement, with hardly another word from either children. Celmaru considered this fortunate, as it stood.
Haphazardly crouching down once again, subtly gesturing to his daughter, the trio moved on from their current shelving. The day had been progressing at its leisure -- definitely so. Today was just as beautiful as it were just recently; periodic bunches of clouds to complete the scene. Novels, magazines, manga, and even some poor soul's research paper were passed by; each section becoming blander and just as stale along the way. Celmaru began to ponder of sifting through another bookstore altogether. What a dilemma this was! Meanwhile, the more boisterous of the two children was slapping her fingers against the spines -- a nigh-rhythmic "tap, pap, tap" ringing briefly within the aisles. She was bored; self-assuredly bored. Perhaps purchasing a children's fiction story would somewhat remedy the situation. Perhaps not.
"Hrmmmm..."
519 WC