Work Text:
Thursdays are Eddie’s favorite days because he gets to spend his mornings with his little Ozzie Jo. While you leave to open the store at 8:30, Eddie and Ozzie leisurely start their day at 10:00. Maybe 10:15 if Ozzie wants extra snuggles. (She very regularly wants extra snuggles with her dad).
They’ll begrudgingly get out of bed at 10:30 to get dressed and start breakfast. The menu is a rotation of chocolate chip pancakes, Eggo waffles, strawberry yogurt, and oatmeal. Very rarely does Ozzie ask for cereal. And if she does want cereal, it’s always raisin bran. Yep. Raisin bran.
This morning, while Eddie braids her hair, she decides she wants the Elvis Special. “We haven’t had that in a long time,” Eddie ties off one pigtail. “Don’t know if we have any bacon, but I’ll check.”
“I want lots of peanut butter in mine. And three banana slices,” Ozzie holds up 4 fingers.
Eddie smiles while he braids the other side of her brown wavy hair. Her smile and eyes are all you, but Ozzie was blessed with her dad’s hair. “You sure that’s three, Oz? Count again, honey.”
Ozzie looks at her hand, nose scrunched and eyebrows creased together. Using her other index finger, she touches the tips of her fingers as she counts them. “One… two… three…oh!” she puts down the extra finger. “Three. Three banana slices.”
“Okay, baby,” Eddie kisses the top of her head. “Three banana slices in your Elvis Special comin’ right up.”
“Yay!” she raises her arms for Eddie to pick her up. He gives her a big squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before setting her down.
“Go play in the front room while I make breakfast,” Eddie says while his daughter is already running away from him. Ozzie makes herself busy with her My Little Ponies while Eddie gets what he needs for the Elvis Special. The Elvis Special is just oatmeal with peanut butter, bananas and chopped up bits of crispy bacon. It glues your mouth shut but it’s delicious while doing it.
While the oatmeal—steel cut only— starts cooking on the stove, Eddie heats up a pan for the bacon. You’ve been trying to ween them both off of pork bacon but turkey bacon just isn’t as good as the real thing.
“S’not as good, Mama,” Ozzie repeated after Eddie when he told you the same thing. You digressed, especially since they don’t have bacon every day. Well, you don’t serve Ozzie bacon every morning but you’re not sure what Eddie fixes for himself when he’s alone.
Rarely does Ozzie ask for the Elvis Special. Eddie’s surprised she remembers what it is. Before she honed in her talking skills, “Elvis” always sounded a bit more like “El-bith” and she wouldn’t even attempt to say “special”. But she’s a rather smart girl at three years old. Sometimes too smart for yours and Eddie’s own good. She talks non-stop (wonder where she gets that from), makes up little songs while she’s doing tasks— especially if she’s learning something new like tying her shoes, and loves helping you and Eddie at the store. She goes to the music store every day with you and Eddie. Whether she goes with you at 8:30 or rolls in at 1:00 on Thursdays when Eddie has his first lesson, she’s a staple at Munson’s Music.
Eddie goes to stir the oatmeal to make sure it’s not sticking to the bottom, but the spoon slips from his fingers and sinks down into the pot of hot oatmeal. Reactively, he sticks his fingers in the sludge to pull out the spoon, but yanks his hand out quickly. Searing pain drives up his fingers and makes his spine tingle. “Fuck,” he exclaims a bit too loudly, shaking out his hand. “Ow, ow, ow.”
“Fuck!” Ozzie repeats, much more happily.
Eddie’s big eyes double in size. “Oh, no. Nononono,” he rambles on as he rushes to Ozzie’s side. He squats beside the coffee table, where Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie are hanging out. “Oz, Daddy said a bad word.”
“What word?” Ozzie inquires innocently.
“Fu-” Eddie almost says it again before he remembers who he’s talking to. Think, Eddie, think. How would you handle this? “The ‘F’ word. Do you remember the alphabet? And the letter ‘F’? Daddy said a bad word that starts with ‘F’.”
Ozzie puts down Rainbow Dash to join the rest of her pony friends on the table. She sounds out the letter ‘F’.
“Yup, that’s the sound ‘F’ makes,” Eddie says wearily. “Now, just don’t say the word I said. It’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Hm,” muses your daughter. “Then why’d you say it?”
Well, that’s a good question. How does one begin integrating swear words into their vernacular? Eddie remembers being 11 years old and saying “crap” for the first time. “Crap” later graduated to “shit” which was then replaced with Eddie’s favorite expletive, “fuck.”
He thinks back to all the times you made him put money in the swear jar when he swore while you were pregnant. You said something like, “my parents already hate that we’re not married, I’m pretty sure they’d disown me if our baby’s first word was a swear word.” Eddie bites back a smile. The image of you round with his baby in the forefront of his mind. You looked good. God, it feels like forever ago. Making chocolate cake in the middle of the night and having to give birth at home, in the middle of a snow storm.
Maybe it’s time to make another one…
“Daddy?” Ozzie’s sweet voice says.
Eddie clears his throat. Even memories of you can be distracting. “Yeah, sweets?”
Ozzie seems to contemplate her next sentence. “Would it make Mama mad if I said ‘fuck’?”
A hearty chuckle erupts from Eddie’s throat. She’s certainly his child. “Yeah, Oz, she wouldn’t be very happy. Please don’t say it at all. Daddy just hurt himself but I shouldn’t have said it, either.”
Ozzie nods. “‘Kay. Is breakfast ready? ‘M hungry.”
“Just gotta cook the bacon and cut the banana.” Eddie stands and makes his way back to the kitchen.
“Threeeeeee slices!” Ozzie reminds him.
“Three slices, baby,” Eddie confirms before fishing out the fallen spoon with a pair of tongs. He dishes out a small bowl for Ozzie and leaves the rest in the pot for himself. He plops in a heaping scoop of peanut butter and stirs it around to make the oatmeal sticky and goopy. Next come the three banana slices. The bacon is cooked until it’s good and crispy, broken into jagged and uneven pieces and sprinkled on top. If you’re feeling sinful, you might top it off with a bit of maple syrup. But Eddie decides to keep it conservative. It is truly a delectable breakfast and an excellent choice on Ozzie’s part.
Eddie sits Ozzie down at the table, along with guests Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. He places The Elvis Special in front of her, reminding her to blow on it because it’s hot. He fills a sippy cup with milk and walks it over to the table with his own pot of the Elvis Special.
Once Eddie ensures her oatmeal has reached a reasonable temperature, he gives her the go ahead to dig in. “Yummy,” Ozzie mumbles contently.
“Thank you, thank you very much.”