Work Text:
“Okay, let dough chill for one hour,” Nick murmured to himself, as he read the instructions on the recipe book propped up in front of him. “Then mix sugar with the cinnamon, and a large pinch of sea salt.”
He looked in their spices cupboard for the box of salt.
“Bollocks,” he swore under his breath. “I was sure we had bought some last time we were - AHA ! There you are, you little bastard.”
As he lifted it from the shelf, Theo wandered into the kitchen.
“Papa, can I have a snack?”
“Yeah, course,” Nick agreed, using a spatula to mix the flavourings for the cinnamon buns he was currently making. “Pick one thing from the snack box in the fridge. Just one, though, I’m starting dinner soon.”
“Yay!”
Nick watched as Theo lifted a Cheestring out of the box, and started to wander off with his prize.
“Tell your sisters they can have something too, if they want.”
“Okay,” Theo agreed.
Nick went back to his baking, but out of the corner of his eye, he watched Theo unwrap his snack and throw the plastic packaging in the bin. Then he paused, as though waiting for something, before lifting it back out and throwing it in for a second time.
“Theo, Bubbles, what are you doing?”
“Trying to make the noise, but maybe it’s just the frog,” Theo sighed, walking off down the hall leaving a very confused Nick staring after him.
Huh? What?
🐸🐸🐸
Three days later, it happened again when he collected the two big kids from their after school club.
“Yeah, hi Mrs. McIlroy,” Nick greeted the school receptionist. “Just here to collect Amelie and Theodore, please.”
Mrs McIlroy smiled at him. “Sure, Mr Nelson-Spring. I’ll go get them now.”
She walked out of the office and down the corridor to collect the children. Nick was studying the photos on the wall when he heard small feet approaching rapidly, and the voices of Meelie and Theo arguing about Minecraft.
Just a typical Wednesday, then.
“Hi, Papa,” they greeted him.
“Hi, both,” Nick replied, leaning down to hug them from where they’d flung their arms around him; Meelie’s were around his waist and Theo had attached himself to Nick’s right thigh, his schoolbag swinging wildly on one shoulder, unzipped, with the contents threatening to spill out. “Did you have a good day?”
The three of them continued to chat as they headed towards the car.
“Wait!” Theo exclaimed, running off in the opposite direction once they had reached the car park.
“Tee, come back!” Nick called. “Remember you’re in a car park, buddy!”
He watched as Theo approached the large, square shaped wooden bin with the school logo stamped on the front. Rummaging in his bag, he lifted a handful of paper and threw it enthusiastically into the opening.
And, like last weekend in the kitchen, he stood. Waiting.
“Theo, come on , we have to get home! Daddy will be home soon with Flossie, we have to get dinner!”
Theo’s little shoulders dropped, and he walked back towards the car slowly. “Still no sounds,” Nick heard him mutter under his breath.
What sounds?
Nick was about to ask Theo what he meant, when his phone rang and interrupted his train of thought.
Charlie.
“Hi, baby, yes we’re leaving now.” Pause. “Yeah, it was fine.” Pause. “Tiger bread? Can do, I’ll go to Tesco Express, yeah? Okay, love you, see you soon.”
As Nick climbed into the car, hearing his children arguing about Minecraft for the 3,497th time, he forgot all about Theo’s current fixation with bins and started to make the journey home.
🐸🐸🐸
Until the following Saturday.
Nick and Theo were in the car, heading back from Theo’s rugby practice via the leisure centre to collect Meelie and Floss from their ballet lesson. Charlie was at home, as he always was on a Saturday morning; the quiet giving him some much needed time to work on his next novel.
Or on the fan fiction he wrote under an alias for his own fandom - whatever mood struck him.
As Nick approached the automatic doors to the foyer, he felt Theo tugging excitedly on his hand.
“Papa! Papa look!”
Nick followed where Theo’s tiny finger was pointing.
To see him pointing at a bin.
A large, frog shaped bin, with a comically wide opening for the mouth.
“These bins are so funny, Papa. They make a ‘ribbit-ribbit’ sound when you put your rubbish in!”
And suddenly, Nick understood. With a whoosh, his thoughts tumbled back to his own childhood.
35 years previously…
“Mummy! Mummy! Please can we go to the park?”
“I’m not sure, Nicky, I have lots of work -”
“Oh, PLEASE! I’ll be ever so good, Mummy, I just want to go on the swings for a teeny tiny bit!”
His Mum laughs.
“Okay, well, maybe for a few minutes.”
Tiny Nick feels his heart thump happily.
“I would have dried your hair if I’d known though, baby, you might get -”
“No I’ll be okay, Mummy, I’m always warm!”
His Mum laughs again.
“That you are! Put your crisp packet in the frog, quickly now, so we can get to the swings!”
It’s Nick’s favourite part of his swimming lesson.
He approaches the gigantic, green plastic bin shaped like a cartoon amphibian.
It’s gigantic, because everything looks gigantic when you’re five.
He ceremoniously throws the cheese and onion packet into the frog’s wide, open mouth.
And then he hears it…
“Ribb-IT! Ribbit!”
Nick giggles.
The memory caused Nick’s eyes to crinkle up with silent laughter; he’d forgotten about this.
“Uhh, Theo? Does this happen when you’re with Nana Sarah?”
“Yup!” Theo said happily. “When she brings me and Meelie to our swimming lesson!”
Of course!
He watched as Theo dug through his rugby bag, clearly looking for any piece of paper, wrapper or food he could discard to feed the hungry frog, and Nick thought how he’d buy his Mum some flowers to take to lunch tomorrow.
Thanks Mum, for the happy childhood.
“Awwww YES!” Theo shouted joyfully, finding half an unwrapped cereal bar at the bottom of his bag, bits of grass clinging to the jammy centre.
Together, the two of them approached the bin and as his son threw the rubbish in, in the same exuberant fashion as his own 5 year old self used to do, Nick hid his mouth behind his hand.
“Ribb-IT! Ribbit!”
“It’s magic!” Theo said, his little mouth dropped open in wonder.
“Must be, yes!” Nick smiled at him, as they walked into the leisure centre, hand in hand. “Now, shall we go to the park on the way home, give Daddy some more time to write?”