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“LOKI! LOKI!”
Loki came into the room, taking his time in doing so, while he flipped a page of a book he was reading. “Yes, dear?”
“What in the world, is the meaning of this?” You pointed at your child, who was sitting merrily in the middle of what appeared to be an explosion of white powder and some liquid substance you didn’t even dare to start wondering what it was.
Loki eyed the miniature mischief maker version of himself, who was covered in the aforementioned white powder and liquids, before he turned his gaze back to you, like there was nothing out of the ordinary there. “We are studying.” He said, like it was the most normal thing in the whole realm.
“Studying. Studying? You call this studying?” You were fuming. When you returned from the market, you were feeling very pleased with your shopping and were already creating the dinner menu in your mind. That was, of course, until you saw your son had turned the living room into a battle field.
“Well...” Loki was sensing your distress and anger; it was spiking pretty fast. That could only mean trouble for him. “I c...”
He didn’t even get to finish what he was about to say. You stomped towards him and stuck a finger at his face. “You’re going to clean up this mess and give him a proper bath, right now. And no magic!”
“Darling, surely...”
“No magic, Loki!” You repeated, glaring daggers at him. As much as you loved his sorry ass, you were not going to allow him to get away easily with it. You weren’t gifted with the seiðr, which meant whatever you did, it was slow and sometimes frustratingly exhausting. Whereas your beloved husband could do the work within less than a second with a flick of the wrist. It was unfair and you did not feel like giving him the pleasure of getting away with it easily.
“But, dearest...”
“Don’t you “but dearest” me.” You replied with a hiss. The crease between your eyebrows deepened, showing just how pissed you were at him. You couldn’t take it out on your son, because he was too young to understand what he was doing. Loki, on the other hand, despite behaving like he was two, was a mature adult. He should have known better. “You’re also cooking dinner tonight.” You added as an afterthought. Your happy mood was gone and you were going to do what you always did when angry at your boys: hide in your craft room for a while until you calmed down.
Without giving your husband the chance to reply, you turned around and left the room.
Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He never liked upsetting you, even by accident.
“Uh oh...” Came the tiny voice a few feet away from where he was standing and Loki turned to look at his son. “Daddy in trouble.”
“Whose fault do you think that is?” Loki placed his hands on his hips as he tilted his head to look at his little trouble maker. “We would have gotten away with it had you not decided to summon baking ingredients.”
“Cake!”
“I’m afraid there will be no more cake for today. We need to get you cleaned up and then daddy will have to clean up the mess you created. Do you know how annoying it is to use the vacuum cleaner?” He replied with a little smile on his lips as he walked over to his son and picked him up. “We will, however, make cake tomorrow. A surprise birthday party cannot be without cake. But it will be our little secret.” He held out his pinky and his son grabbed it. He nodded and grinned, to which Loki responded with a similar one. He could still fix this.