Where Sam Can’t Catch a Kid
Title: Where Sam Can’t Catch a Kid
Rating: PG for a naughty swear.
Warning: I’m half-asleep, I should be doing homework and I’m bored.
His life had come to this, to the point where he was crawling underneath an empty dinner table, a striped sun-hat in one hand and a striped sundress in the other. Samuel David Evans crawled on his hands and knees, wrinkling his button-down blue shirt in the process and staining it with some splattered grape juice, from underneath the table in the dining room and sighed. He hung his head in slight defeat before a noise made his ears perk up.
A small giggle emanated from the nearby trashcan and when the man focused his green eyes on the object he noticed little white toes peeking out from behind. Sam smiled devilishly and thought back to the days where he had to run down the field holding a football. Trying to avoid assholes like Karfosky (before he quit football, but that’s a story for another day) attempting to knock the air, blood and guts right out of him wasn’t so hard. He had done it well enough to get a scholarship. So this was the same situation, only in reverse. Sure, he was chasing the football this time and the football giggled, had legs and energy that hadn’t flown through the man in his most hyperactive of days in infancy but-
“-This shouldn’t be that hard.” Sam whispered to himself as he got on his knees and then rocked back on his toes. Crouching on the ground, one hand on the floor, the twenty-seven year old nodded to himself before yelling ‘Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaarge’ and running right at the trashcan.
If he had seen the fallen Barbie Splash N Spray Water Park Bath Playset a second or so sooner, he could have avoided the crash landing onto the hardwood floor of the living room.
“Ack!” A sharp pain ran up Sam’s back, begining at his lower back and bouncing around his head. His vision swam for a bit before it refocused and he tried to move.
Mistake. The muscles in hsi back contracted slightly and his nerves were on fire. He must’ve thrown his back out. God, he was getting old.
“Daddy said a bad word!”
Sam stared up at a pair of green-blue eyes staring down at him in glee. His daughter stood befor him, naked as the day she was born, prodding his stomach with a toy princess wand she had recieved as part of a set for a birthday.
“Elizabeth Elise Evans. Don’t. Move.” The girl’s pigtails swished as she shook her head, sitting down on the floor next to her fallen father. As mischievous as she was, Elizabeth was quite like her Daddy in the way her emotions changed suddenly. Sam often became happy, then sad, then annoyed and frustrated on a whim. Eli was the same, inheriting most of his personality and looks.
Which led to Sam getting his ear talked off by Eli’s other father. At the very least, she got his eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
“N-No. Daddy’s fine.” Sam sat up slowly, shimmying back until he hit the wall. He sighed loudly and glanced at his daughter, who was fiddling nervously with her bangs. She was brushing them to the side slightly with the pam of her right hand, not unlike Sam’s husband, who often brushed away bangs when irked or uncomfortable.
“Are you mad at me?” Elizabeth sniffed slightly and her hand continued to flatten the hair on her head.
“What? No. No, come here.” Sam scooped his daughter up and onto his lap, placing the striped sun-hat on her head once she became comfortable.
“Daddy’s just… tired.”
At the very least, he got her hat on. As he sat there, resting his hurt back against the wall and rocking a nearly-crying four year old, Sam wondered if fate was kind enough to let him recover his dignity. It was still 10:18 am by his watch and his husband wasn’t due for another hour. If he could just get up, get Elizabeth dressed and then-
“Huh. Looks like someone had an eventful morning.”
Kurt took in the sight of his husband leaning against the wall, slumped on the floor, with a half-naked child in his lap and look of utter defeat in his eyes. He tried not to laugh but was unable to hold the smirk that came over his face. Sam always said he could make Elizabeth listen to him, so Kurt decided to let him give it a go without his fabulous-self there to rub it in his face that the girl would never listen to him. He babied her too much.
Sam tried to smile but only groaned when he straightened his back and pain shot through his body.
“Poppa! Daddy said the bad F-wordy again!”
“Really? That’s another dollar for the swear jar, hun. We might get you that pink power-wheel soon.” Kurt picked Eli up, meeting Sam’s eyes with an all-knowing look before dressing the four-year old.
Sam could only mumble a small ‘shut it’ before being kissed hello.