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Dingo wakes up to his alarm blasting loudly in his ears. He growls into his pillow, raising his head to check the time. Band practice starts later than his alarm does, why did he set it this early, anyways? He presses the snooze button and snuggles deeper into the warm blankets.
Unfortunately, he's not the only one the alarm clock wakes up.
It doesn't take long before there's fur tickling his nose, and he scrunches up his face. He makes a noise of surprise when a small paw smacks him right in the eye.
"Ack!" He rears back, blinking himself awake. He's met with Dook's adorable smile and twinkling eyes, and despite how tired he is and how badly he wants to go back to sleep, he can't be mad. Dook giggles at his father's reaction, using his other paw to cuff Dingo's nose. "Don't hit Papa's face, honey."
Dook grabs onto one of Dingo's ears instead. Dingo huffs good-naturedly. He supposes he can't expect an 18 month old to ever stop fiddling with anything he can get his paws on.
He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around his pup. Dook seems content to lay in bed a moment longer, holding onto his dad's ear. Dingo relaxes and begins to doze off.
Dook does not.
"Papa!" Dook whines, scrunching his face like he's about to cry.
"Shhh, shh," Dingo soothes. He lets Dook play with his ears, hoping it'll calm Dook down and he'll go back to sleep. He winces when Dook tugs a little too hard.
Dingo sighs. "You don't want to go back to sleep, do you?"
"Papa…" Dook repeats.
Dingo shakes his head, kissing Dook's forehead. Dook just whines.
"Alright, alright, I've gotten your message. No more sleep for Papa, huh?" Dingo slowly sits up, hoisting Dook into his arms as he does so. Dook sits in his lap happily for a moment.
Dingo gazes down lovingly. It feels like only yesterday that he took Dook home from the hospital. He can't believe Dook's already so big. He's one of the bigger pups he's seen, especially for his family-- Dingo was always the smallest in his class, and his twin siblings were considered runts. But Dook is chubby and growing quickly.
He knows he's spent too much time staring quietly and reminiscing when Dook barks softly. Dingo knows he's lost his patience, ready to get up and eat, guessing by the loud rumble from his tummy. "Yes, yes, we're getting up."
Dingo stretches and yawns, rising with Dook held securely in his arms. He carries Dook with him to the kitchen, wincing when he puts too much pressure on his hip. "Ouch," He mutters, lowering Dook into his highchair. He shakes his head as Dook immediately starts hitting the tray in front of him.
"You'll get your food in a second." Dingo huffs, but there's no heat in his tone. He grabs the applesauce out of the fridge and one of the little segmented plates that Mini had gifted him. He carefully pours it into the largest section of the plate.
He opened the cabinets to grab both his and Dook's cereal. Cornflakes for him, some strange grain puffs for Dook. Those go into the second largest section of the plate. After a moment of consideration, Dingo grabs the peanut butter and spoons a portion into the smallest part. He sneaks a spoonful himself.
He places the plate in front of Dook with silverware, letting him begin eating while he pours his own cereal and returns everything to their proper place. It doesn't take long before he's sitting with his own breakfast in front of him, watching his pup with affection (and caution). They didn't need another honey incident.
This was always part of their routine waking up, but something about the scene made Dingo feel a little too emotional for a Monday morning. His little baby was in front of him, as sweet and adorable as he could be. And he was growing so quick, too! It'd be a couple months now until his 2nd birthday, and Dingo felt a mix of anxiety and pure love.
He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his paw. It'd all happened so fast, but he didn't regret a second of it. If he could go back in time, he wouldn't change a thing. Who knew that having a pup could change your life so drastically?
Dingo laughs when Dook sticks his paw into the peanut butter and eats it small pawful at a time.
"Eat your applesauce, too," Dingo reminds, leaning in and grabbing Dook's small spoon to scoop up a mouthful. "Here comes the airplane."
Dook giggles like he always does, and Dingo puts the spoon in his mouth. After the demonstration, Dook seems happy to spoon it into his mouth himself. But not without making a mess.
Dingo sighs; his face is covered in peanut butter and applesauce, and so is the tray beneath the plate. Pieces of cereal are scattered on the floor beneath the highchair. He shakes his head, grabbing the spoon again when Dook places it down. "One more bite."
Dook does not agree.
Dingo's face is now splattered with applesauce.
"Ah." Dingo wipes it off his cheek. "No more bites, I see."
He begins the tedious cleaning process, wiping Dook's face of all the mess he's made before putting him in his playpen.
He wipes down the tray, puts the dishes in the sink, and picks up the cereal left on the floor. It hurts to bend down, but he tries to pay it no mind. He then redirects his attention to the dishes in the sink. He doesn't like leaving them dirty for longer than he has to, so he scrubs them down.
Dook whines from within the playpen, holding onto the side and calling out for his dad.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Dingo reassures. He places the dishes onto the counter to dry and hurries to scoop his pup out of the playpen. "You don't like bein' in there, huh? You just wanna be with Papa."
"Papa!" Dook's babbling seems to show that he agrees. Dingo presses a kiss to Dook's forehead as he sways in place.
"Papa needs to get ready, love."
"Papa!" Dook repeats. Dingo shakes his head, nothing but love in his eyes.
"I'll be back in a minute." He sets Dook back into the playpen, eyes searching the room. "Ahah." He grabs the pacifier off the counter and hands it to Dook, who grabs it gratefully.
With his baby momentarily distracted, he hops back into his room and starts grabbing items of clothing out of his dresser. After a moment of consideration, he grabs Dook's outfit, too. They're both still in pajamas, and picking out Dook's outfit prior to the struggle to get him clothed saves him a couple minutes.
He shimmies out of his pajamas and into a long sleeved blouse and the comfiest pair of semi-fancy pants he could find. Atop goes a pink vest Mini had bought him at some point, and he gets to brushing his teeth and combing through his hair.
His teeth are crooked and stained yellow from years of neglect; no fault of his, considering his family was too poor and his mother too busy to take him even when they did have the money. He had been conscious about them as a teen, but he'd long learnt that it was natural, and no reason for anyone to look down upon him.
But still, he hopes he can pay for Dook's appointments. He didn't need Dook worrying about the same stuff he once did. God knows the salary they were living on wouldn't make anything particularly easy. His ear twitches nervously, but he pushes his thoughts aside for the time being. He needs to get to work.
Now dressed and ready, he goes to retrieve Dook from his playpen. He's unpleased to discover that Dook is laying quietly on his tummy, eyes closed. His nose twitches at Dingo's entrance. Of course he tried to go to sleep now that Dingo had finally gotten ready.
"Where was this energy when I wanted to go back to sleep?" He asks Dook, shaking his head. "You can't fall asleep now, your nap time isn't for another couple hours."
He grabs Dook gently, swaying in an attempt to wake him up. Dook falling asleep would only make everything else more difficult. It's not like he wasn't absolutely adorable when he was sleeping, and much less of a handful, but Dook being asleep would make it much more difficult to get him out of the house without waking him and making him cranky, not to mention band practice. He'd be awakened at once by the music.
Luckily, Dook yawns and opens his eyes, blinking sleepily. He babbles nonsensically, and Dingo sighs lovingly, relieved.
"C'mon, love."
For the first time in a while, it's fairly easy to get Dook dressed and ready. He doesn't fuss, still waking up from his short, impromptu nap, just plays with the buttons on Dingo's vest. Dingo gently guides his paws away when he tries to yank on his hair.
"It is rather long, huh?" Dingo muses, flicking his hair off his shoulders, out of reach of his handsy pup. "Papa needs a haircut, one of these days."
Dook babbles a more enthusiastic response. Dingo nods like he's said something proper.
"Now the difficult part." He mutters. With Dook still in his arms, he starts folding the playpen to be more easily transportable. It's wooden, and old, so it's not like the sides folding in helps much weight wise, but it helps with storage, so that he can bring it back and forth instead of buying a separate one for the studio.
It takes a hot minute, but he manages, somehow. Dook just talks nonsensically as he watches his dad. Dingo likes to imagine he's being supportive in his own baby way.
He grabs the backpack he keeps Dook's stuff in, packing a bottle of milk and a container of cereal as a snack. Along with this is diapers, a change of clothes (just in case), wipes, and a couple toys to keep him occupied.
"Alright, then, let's go." He huffs, holding Dook, wearing the backpack, and carrying the playpen all at once. Getting out of the door turns out to be as difficult as he thought, but he somehow manages. Once he gets to his car, he realizes he doesn't know how to get everything in without dropping something.
"Shite," he mutters under his breath. He glances apologetically towards Dook the moment he says it, but Dook hasn't seemed to notice. He leans the playpen frame against the car and opens the passenger door. He puts Dook in the little car seat, ruffling his fur. He puts the bag where there's leg room beneath him. With those settled, he slides the playpen into the backseat with some difficulty.
"I'm not as strong as I used to be." He tells Dook with a laugh, getting into the front seat. He isn't wrong, though it's not like he's all that old, either. 30s are a nice place to be, after all the trouble he went through in his teenage years and his 20s. He starts pulling out of the driveway, eyes glancing toward Dook every couple moments to make sure he's alright.
His pup is perfectly content, clapping as he watches cars zoom by. He bounces a little in his seat, excited. After a couple minutes of silent driving (as silent as the old car can be), Dingo moves his paw to briefly touch his to Dook's.
"I love you," Dingo hums. Dook doesn't reply, considering the pacifier in his mouth and the fact that he isn't even looking at his dad, too transfixed on the outside world, but Dingo is unbothered. "More than you'll ever know." He promises.
Dook grabs Dingo's paw with a high pitched keening he makes when he's happy. Dingo just smiles.