[Before Stanley can so much as grunt a thanks, Peace scrambles off the floor and climbs him like a tree, accidentally stomping him in the goods on her way up. Yay, lunch!
Stan makes a strangled noise and leans on the table for support, so he doesn't really have the breath to stop her when she immediately opens the bread and drops half of it in his hair. The other half she sucks on and stares at Saul, as if he might try to take it away from her.
[Ow. That...ow. And-ugh! He finally gets some peanut butter, and it's in his hair. The look on his face is probably a bit comical in it's sheer misery. That is so unfair.
He doesn't actually trust his voice to come out properly at the moment to tell Saul to fuck off, so he settles for a glare. Peace, meanwhile, pets his head consolingly while she licks at the bread and gets peanut butter all over her face. Awwwyeah.]
no subject
Peanut butter sandwiches, Stan!!!
...low-fat peanut butter, but it's all he could find. It's better than nothing. On the plates are also a few orange slices.
Is this what parents feel like?]
Here.
no subject
Stan makes a strangled noise and leans on the table for support, so he doesn't really have the breath to stop her when she immediately opens the bread and drops half of it in his hair. The other half she sucks on and stares at Saul, as if he might try to take it away from her.
Go get your own, old guy.]
no subject
Saul presses his lips together hard to keep from laughing, but there's no hiding the amused twinkle in his eye.]
Stan, uh —
[AW CRAP NO he's laughing.
Ah, well. He tried.]
no subject
He doesn't actually trust his voice to come out properly at the moment to tell Saul to fuck off, so he settles for a glare. Peace, meanwhile, pets his head consolingly while she licks at the bread and gets peanut butter all over her face. Awwwyeah.]
no subject
Then disappears again.
Returns.
Again.
With a napkin (actually, five) and another sandwich.
To Peace:] This is for Stan, okay? No putting it in anyone's hair.
no subject
Stan grunts at the tug but doesn't really react beyond that. He's still gathering his inner resources here. That hurt, dude.
Still, something important needs to be addressed here, and since his eyes are still too blurry to tell, he'd better just communicate it.]
No milk, ok? She...no milk.
no subject
[Kids.
Why kids?
Why.]
Is she lactose intolerant?
no subject
no subject
[Tch.]
That's a shame. I love that stuff.
no subject
no subject