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There’s something missing from the picnic basket. Ranboo knows there is. They just aren’t sure what it is yet. He just knows that he is missing something.
“Boo, you almost ready?” Tubbo calls out from the other room. Ranboo scans the kitchen counters, then sighs. They won’t remember what it is before having to go. All the important stuff is in the picnic basket, they know, but they remembered something this morning. He no longer remembers.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Ranboo responds. He glances around the kitchen one more time, then picks up the basket and goes to meet his husband and son at the door. They both have their shoes and jackets on already, so Ranboo slides on his shoes and waits expectantly. Tubbo opens the door, holding it for Ranboo and Michael. Michael toddles onto the porch and stomps around. He has always liked the sound of his little boots on the porch, for reasons Ranboo doesn’t understand. The reasons exist to Michael, though, so he doesn't mind it.
“We got everything?” Tubbo asks, stepping out behind his family and locking the door. He looks at Ranboo expectantly.
“I feel like I’m missing something, but I have everything on the list.”
“Well then let’s go!”
Tubbo sweeps Michael up into his arms, and the boy squeals. He kicks his feet as Tubbo lifts him into the air. Ranboo smiles, tail waving. They intentionally alter its path to drag just under Michael’s nose, tickling him with the tuft of fur. Michael bats it away, giggling when it sways back under his nose.
The little family is soon off, tromping through the mud. Tubbo leads them to a flower forest, singing loudly with Michael the whole time. Ranboo follows, content to watch his husband and son interact. It’s something they get to see every day, but Ranboo adores it. They would watch their family every moment of every day until they died.
The walk isn’t as long as Ranboo thought, which is good. He’s able to spread out the blanket under a towering oak when they get there, setting the basket in the middle and plopping down. Tubbo does the same, letting Michael sit on his leg. Michael balances on one of Tubbos knees, and laughs brightly as Tubbo bounces his leg.
“You having fun, Mikey?” Ranboo asks. His family is playing, and they look so damn happy. This is everything.
“Mhmm,” Michael hums and nods. He looks at Ranboo, then clambers into their lap. “Ca’ we eat now?”
“Of course.” Ranboo knocks their forehead against Michael’s with a quiet purr, then reaches over him for the basket filled with food. Michael claps his hands together, and stares as Ranboo pulls out a sandwich and some fruit for him.
Michael descends upon the apple slices immediately. They’re a favorite of his, for sure. He has them done before Ranboo even has his and Tubbo’s food out. Honestly, it’s pretty impressive. Tubbo looks almost proud, which makes a weird sort of sense to Ranboo.
“Hey, you have any napkins in there?” Tubbo asks, eyeing the sticky juice on Michael’s face and hooved hands. Michael ignores this, taking a bite out of his sandwich. Ranboo’s eyes widen, then scrunch shut as they groan.
“The napkins! That’s what I wanted to add to the basket before we left!”
“‘S okay, I can use this!” Michael exclaims. His little grin is mischievous, which spells nothing good for Ranboo. Especially when Michael grabs Ranboo’s shirt, and wipes his mouth with it.
“Hey!” Ranboo yelps, picking Michael up and pulling him away from their body (and, therefore, shirt). Michael laughs hysterically at the totally-real offense Ranboo has painted on their face. “You little monster, what was that for?”
“Napkin,” Michael manages to get out through giggles. Ranboo narrows his eyes and stands, making Michael giggle even more.
“Well, if that’s a napkin, then maybe we need to go find a lake for your bath.” Ranboo proceeds to swing Michael through the air, who screams with glee. He makes brief eye contact with Tubbo, who has his head resting against his hand, expression horribly fond. Ranboo feels his face flush a little bit at the attention, and settles. “Okay, okay. Let’s finish our food, then we can get to reading.”
“Reading?” Michael asks, perking up.
He wriggles out of Ranboo’s hold, and gobbles down the rest of his sandwich. Tubbo and Ranboo eat quickly, not wanting Michael to have to wait too long. He’s an impatient little thing. It makes sense, he’s only a toddler, but they still don’t want him to get too bored.
Michael pulls up grass while he waits, folding it into shapes and tangling pieces together. He presents his handful of masterpieces to his parents, who promise to put them in the basket to take home once they pack everything else up, so as not to crush them. Neither of them know that crushing would do anything to the blades of grass, but Michael appreciates the gesture.
“Okay.” Tubbo claps once he’s done, wiping his hands across the grass (since he doesn’t have a napkin, which Ranboo absolutely meant to bring), then sits against the trunk of the tree they are under. Michael climbs into Tubbo’s lap, leaning back against his chest. Ranboo makes himself at home next to Tubbo, pressed against his husband’s side with a book in his hand. “Let’s get to reading, then, ey?”
Michael nods, so Ranboo opens the book to the title page. He dramatically reads the title and author, then continues to the book proper. Ranboo drags his finger across the page as he reads, pointing to each word so Michael can connect the words with the sound. Hopefully. They actually aren’t sure if that’s how it really works, but they think this is what is supposed to happen with kids.
“There was an old lady…” Ranboo reads slowly. Michael looks enraptured, eye tracking the movement of Ranboo’s finger across the pages. Tubbo follows along, helping Michael sound out words when the boy wants to try. It’s not like the words are something too difficult, so even if he mixes up some of the letters, Tubbo can figure out what the word is supposed to be. Context clues!
Once Ranboo finishes reading the book, Michael snatches it from him, claiming it is his turn to read. Michael clearly relies heavily on the pictures, telling a story based on what he remembers. Ranboo’s heart feels kind of melty at the adorable action.
When Michael finishes, his parents clap and cheer, congratulating him on reading so well. He beams, then uses his best manners to ask for another book.
“Ca’ we read more, p’ease?”
Ranboo grins and agrees, pulling out another. They adore their son’s voice. He has a little bit of a lisp, and hasn’t quite figured out how to pronounce “R” or “L” yet. It’s one of the best things Ranboo has ever heard.
Ranboo reads the second book the exact same way as the first, and Tubbo rests his head against their shoulder. Michael bounces happily, making Tubbo yelp and jolt when Michael digs his elbow into his thigh. The boy giggles, clearly not too remorseful.
Michael cheers for Ranboo when he finishes, clearly mimicking his parents, then begins “reading” the book by himself. It’s the cutest thing in the world, in Ranboo’s humble opinion.
They make it through four books before Michael’s eyelid is drooping. He is yawning more than he is speaking, slurring his words. Michael lies against Tubbo’s chest, cuddling close. His little hand reaches out for Ranboo, who pulls Tubbo to be almost on top of them. Ranboo takes Michael’s hand and closes their own eyes and naps with their family, sun shining on their smiling face.