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It wasn’t often that Wednesday forgot . Her memory was typically impeccable. And yet, for the life of her, it had completely slipped her mind that Dean would be in need of a costume. The children in his kindergarten class were assigned animals to dress up as for World Animal Day. They would be given lessons on the importance of animals and learn other lessons that Wednesday, truthfully, did not finish reading about on the flier that was in Dean’s folder.
Dean was going as a raven. She was proud, naturally. She shuddered to think if he would have gotten some other animal - perhaps a flamingo. She would not tolerate having any pink in her home.
But she digressed.
Tyler was the one who tended to handle Dean’s schooling. However, he too, had forgotten all about it in the midst of his bakery and coffee shop experiencing a rush of customers lately after they began utilizing social media to bring in more people.
They were paying for their carelessness now. Rather than being awake for her own leisurely pleasure, she and Tyler rushing along at the last minute to finish up the costume he was supposed to be wearing the next morning.
Dean was fast asleep in his bed at this time, the two of them were downstairs. Tyler was at the sewing machine, a gift from her parents one year for Christmas, while she was cutting the fabric. It was relatively quiet in the house, the lights were dim, the television off.
Not for the first time, Wednesday believed they should have reconsidered the option of public education. Had they simply asked one of her family members to tutor Dean, they wouldn’t be doing this nonsense.
Tyler stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes. “I’m beat.”
Truthfully, so was Wednesday. It was a long day of investigating. She’d not anticipated on this, to still be awake at this hour when she had to be up early to head out the door. “Then you shouldn't have forgotten,” she said shortly.
He shot her a look. “You forgot too.”
She’d rather not dwell on that minor detail. Wednesday huffed, focusing her attention back on the mask she was making to go along with the rest of it.
“He’ll need talons,” she said offhandedly. “I have real ones for him to use.”
“We’re not giving him talons.”
“Why?” She frowned. “It won’t be complete without it.”
“You want to give a five year old real talons?” He said flatly.
“I was doing much worse before the age of five,” Wednesday said matter-of-factly. “For my third birthday, Uncle Fester gifted me-”
“A mini chainsaw,” he finished, a grin peeking out. “Yeah, I remember Gomez saying that.”
Her parents had pictures to commemorate the occasion, photographs of her holding that chainsaw as high above her head as she could, terrorizing the townsfolk with it. They’d been particularly proud the day she’d taken it to her class’ show and tell. Those other children, including the teacher, had run out screaming. It had been glorious.
“I should still have it around somewhere,” she thought about it. “I could bring it out for Dean.” Several seconds later, Wednesday shook her head. “Never mind. That's not going to work?”
“No?”
“He deserves a proper chainsaw. We’ll get him a regular sized one,” she decided.
“Alright, but he better not use it in the house,” Tyler said, pointedly, moving the fabric he was working on along the table to stitch the next part of it.
Wednesday’s gaze fell upon a few hideous decorative pieces Tyler picked out for their home. Should they fall victim to the chainsaw, she would not be particularly upset .
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tyler. I would have other plans for him.”
“Such as?” He said mildly.
“It would be an excellent way to reign in those neighbors that find it necessary to speak to us,” Wednesday was not in any mood to socialize with those on the same street as them. Surely if they caught a glimpse of Dean waving the chainsaw around they would think twice before approaching.
“This is why we don’t have other friends,” Tyler muttered.
“Yes, and what of it?” She said, to which he rolled his eyes. “You should be thanking me. I’m saving you from having to participate in useless conversation.”
“My hero,” he deadpanned.
“Mama? Daddy?” Came a voice from the stairs. Dean was rubbing his eyes, hair in disarray and his pajamas wrinkled.
“Bud, it’s late. What are you doing up?” Tyler stopped what he was doing.
“I heard noises,” Dean came over to sleepily crawl in his father’s lap. Tyler allowed it, sliding his chair back so he’d have more room, wrapping a strong arm around his son to steady him.
“I’m sorry we woke you,” Tyler kissed his head.
Wednesday leaned forward to take her child’s chin onto her palm, cupping the side of his face with her fingers. “We’re nearly finished with your costume, mijo.”
“Okay,” Dean mumbled.
“I’ll even give you some talons-”
“Wednesday, no ,” Tyler interjected.
“-that you may use on anyone you wish,” she finished, completely ignoring him.
“I’ll use it on Billy,” Dean said, his eyes shut, lulled by the way Tyler was rubbing up and down his back. “He called me a stupid head.”
“Very good Dean,” she praised. “Stay ahead of your enemies and make it a surprise attack. He will never know it’s coming.”
“He’s literally five, Wednesday.”
“Silence Tyler.”
Later, when they’d all gotten up in the morning, Dean wore the homemade raven custom, flapping his fake wings around while waiting for breakfast.
She slipped those talons in his backpack when Tyler wasn’t looking.