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A little brown-haired boy gently nudged the unconscious figure of his father who lay sprawled on the wooden floor, bottles and cans scattered around him.
His dad didn’t respond. The little boy, no older than 5 or 7, crouched down, poking his dad’s shoulder. tears began to form in the corners of the little boy’s eyes, his soft sheep-like ears hanging down on each side of his head. The only proof his dad was alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the occasional flick of his ear. The boy pushed the empty bottles away from his dad, curling up beside him in a little ball, waiting for his dad to wake up.
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When the boy woke up the next afternoon, he was in his own bed, his old tattered blanket wrapped around him snugly. He freed himself from his burrito prison, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and walking out of the room, down the hall and into the kitchen. His dad was sitting at the table, head in his hands. The boy went over to his dad and gently tugged on his blue sweater.
He lifted his head and looked down at his son. “Hey bud, you alright?”
The boy nodded, then pointed back at him and tilted his head, asking him the same thing.
His father sighed, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’m ok. Sorry about last night.” He closed his eyes for a moment, before picking his kid up and placing him in his lap.
The little boy looked up at him with big green eyes and placed his hand on his stomach.
“Oh, you’re hungry… yeah, me too. I’ll see if we’ve got anything for you.” He picked up his boy, got up and walked to the kitchen cabinets.
All of them were essentially bare, besides a few odd dishes, a can of almost expired tuna, and some questionable looking bread. The fridge didn’t offer much better options, just a half-empty jug of milk.
“Well Schlatt, good going, you wasted half your money and your kid is hungry.” He said bitterly to himself, the little boy looking up at him curiously.
He put him down, ruffling his son’s hair before going to the catchall he had on the counter. It was filled with spare change, which he quickly counted.
Wow, a whopping $50.75. That’s definitely enough until I get another pay check. He shook his head. His boy tugged on his sweater again.
Schlatt looked down. “Hey Tubbo… I know you’re hungry. Let’s go to the store and see what we can find, ok bud?”
He nodded, going to his room, soon coming out wearing his old tattered jacket. Schlatt sighed. Most of their belongings were old and tattered. He went to the door, putting on his jacket and newspaper-stuffed boots. He grabbed his and Tubbo’s mittens, making sure Tubbo was as bundled up as he could be.
“C’mon Tubbo, let’s go.” He grabbed his son’s hand and led him outside.
It was already getting darker; it was about 5:30. Schlatt hurried to the grocery store, the smaller and cheaper one a few blocks away. He failed to notice Tubbo’s hand slip away, until he checked behind him and saw him standing half a block away in front of a store window. The ram hybrid hurried over to his kid.
“Hey kid, what’re you looking at?” He asked, crouching beside Tubbo, looking up at the window display. It was a toy store display of a big Christmas scene, various stuffed animals, figures, and so on placed around it. Tubbo stood mesmerized by one toy in particular. He looked over at his dad, then at the toy, making gabby hands. Schlatt looked up, seeing a stuffed bee toy.
He hummed, looking at the small price tag beside it. Ten dollars. That’s a good chunk of what I’ve got for food…
He turned back to Tubbo. “I’m sorry bud but I don’t think I have enough money for it. We need to go get food first. If we have enough money after maybe we’ll come back, ok?” He ruffled his hair again. Tubbo looked longingly at the toy, but he understood. He reached up, asking for Schlatt to carry him.
He smiled a little and picked him up, Tubbo habitually grabbing onto Schlatt’s horns. He carried him to the store, and as he shopped. Schlatt had time to think.
Tubbo has been behaving really well the past month or two… all things considered… like my relapses… and he doesn’t ever really get much for toys or gifts or the other things kids his age should be getting. He really deserves a special treat.
Schlatt avoided the alcohol section, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from buying any. There were more important things at the moment.
He quickly found all the necessities for him and his kid for the next two weeks (if they were lenient with their usage) and went to pay. Tubbo had fallen asleep, his head resting on his dad’s shoulder, his hand still clutching Schlatt’s horn. He grabbed the bags and walked to the toy shop, going inside. Tubbo lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes when his ride stopped, as Schlatt put him down near the door.
“Hey bud, watch the bags for me, ok?” Schlatt asked.
Tubbo nodded sleepily, sitting down and wrapping his little arms around the grocery bags. Schlatt went to the cashier.
“Hello, how May I help you?” The lady behind the till smiled, but eyed his worn clothes and horns suspiciously.
“I was wondering if I could buy that bee toy you have in the window there.” Schlatt said, rummaging through his pockets for the remainder of his money.
“If you can pay for it.” She said curtly, going and grabbing it from the display. Upon coming back, she showed him the price tag and he nodded, handing her the necessary amount.
She carefully counted the money, not subtle at all in her suspicions. She nodded slightly and put the toy in a small green sparkly gift bag, handing it to Schlatt.
He thanked the lady and went back over to his son. "c'mon bud, let's head home."