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Zoro’s not usually one to consider things in hindsight, but in this instance he’s willing to make an exception. It’s hindsight that tells him he should have seen this coming, and that he absolutely shouldn’t be surprised at all. Unfortunately, that doesn’t really help him at the moment.
“No.” He says sternly, tightening the hand he has clenched around the strap of his young son’s overalls. “I’ve told you more times than I can count at this point. You can’t just jump into the ocean whenever you feel like it. There’s god knows how many things in there that would want to eat you, and you can’t even swim.”
In the back of his head he hears Sanji’s voice yelling at him, rising in that high pitched way that only the cook can muster, about how he needs to be more careful when choosing his words because he’s going to give the baby nightmares.
Stressing the risk of imminent harm doesn’t seem to have traumatized Sora, however. In fact, it looks like it’s barely registered at all. What has registered is the use of the word ‘no’, along with the act of keeping him from his current greatest desire.
“Fishes!” He shrieks, loud enough to remind anyone nearby that, while the devil fruit powers that had created him decided he may look like Zoro, he’s definitely inherited more than one trait from Sanji. “Wanna see fishes!”
“You can see them just fine from up here,” Zoro points out in what he feels is a rational tone. “You don’t need to be going into the water with them.”
Sora wails at this, tears streaming down his face as his pudgy little arms continue flailing towards the water that he’d so recently tried to take a swan dive into before Zoro had caught him at the edge of the Baratie’s deck.
“Fishes, Dada!” He howls, his hands straining, outstretched. “Fisshhes!”
“No, no fishes,” Zoro says, using his grip on Sora’s overalls to haul him backwards until he can get a hand around his midsection and heft him up onto his own hip. He dodges a flailing fist as Sora’s tantrum grows, and turns on his heel to start marching inside. “You’re cut off for today.”
“Dada, nooo!” His sobs somehow getting even more intense, Sora starts struggling harder when he realizes he’s being taken away from his intended prize. “Fishes!”
“Uh huh, I heard you the first half a dozen times, buddy,” Zoro assures him. “The answer’s still no.”
Several customers glance up in surprise when he stomps into the dining room with an enraged toddler in his arms. One woman even looks like she might confront him about the situation, but she freezes when he shoots a glare her way.
“He’s mine,” he assures her. “Even if I was the kind of guy who went around kidnapping kids, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to drag him in here in front of a bunch of witnesses. He’s just in a mood to be an asshole.”
His use of the word ‘asshole’ in reference to a two year old causes several people to give him scandalized looks, but he ignores them. Continuing on in his mission, he heads for the swinging doors that lead into the kitchen and shoves through them with Sora still in his arms.
“Curls!” He barks, effectively silencing the entire kitchen - minus Sora’s continued hysterics - with the single word. “Your genetics are causing trouble, so you’d better get your ass over here and fix it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” An irate voice snaps, and, just as Zoro had known he would, Sanji emerges from the crowd of chefs with a harsh scowl twisting his lips.
Well versed in that scowl and therefore largely immune to it, Zoro hoists Sora off his hip and holds him out for Sanji. “Somebody just tried to do a header off the back deck again,” he announces. “And he’s pissed as all get out that I had the nerve to stop him from drowning.”
“Oh, darling.” Instantly folding the way Zoro had known he would, Sanji reaches out to take their son. “Come here,” he says, tucking Sora up against his chest and nuzzling the top of his head. “Tell Papa what happened.”
Sora’s entire body tightens up, his face going red as he tries to convey the sheer depths of how he’s been wronged. He takes a deep breath, sucking in a huge lungful of air, and then with all his might screams, “Wanna go fishes!”
“He tried to jump off the deck to get into the water again,” Zoro translates, somehow remaining calm despite the noise. “He’s obsessed with the All Blue and the fish in it - something he very much did not get from me.”
“A love of the ocean is not genetic, Marimo,” Sanji says dryly, running one hand along Sora’s back. “He just sees the rest of us going into the water on the regular and wants to know what all the fuss is about.”
“That’s great,” Zoro says flatly. “But if he slips away without my noticing and fucking drowns doing it, I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions. He’s getting more obsessed with the water, and I can’t keep chasing him nonstop like this. I already spent a decade doing it with Luffy, and he’s somehow worse.”
“No, you’re right, you’re right,” Sanji agrees, bouncing Sora slightly as he finally starts to calm down. “We need to come up with a better solution than upgrading the railings. He’s starting to take climbing them like some sort of challenge.”
“That bullheadedness also comes from you,” Zoro says, making Sanji snort.
“Right because you never spent years stubbornly chasing a dream that seemed completely out of reach,” he says dryly. “Oh no, that had to come strictly from me.”
Zoro shrugs, unrepentant, and Sanji snorts again.
“Fine, be that way,” he says, turning his attention back to Sora. “Baby boy and I know the real truth.”
Having calmed considerably now that the open water is no longer within sight, Sora shoves his face into the crook of Sanji’s neck and huffs. “Snack?” He suggests, apparently willing to abandon his previous quest if an appropriate substitute can be provided.
Sanji predictably melts at the request for food, and starts heading for the pantry before Zoro can say anything. “Of course, darling,” he coos, already vanishing into the crowd with Sora in tow. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Zoro watches them go with a mixture of fondness and exasperation that only his family can provide.
*****
“So I talked to Chopper.”
Zoro glances up from where he’s been meditating while he waits for Sanji to get ready for bed. Sora had gone down in his own room a couple of hours ago, meaning they’ve had the night mostly to themselves. Sanji’d seemed distracted, though, and based on this recent announcement, Zoro’s going to guess he knows why.
“Okay?” He prompts when a few beats pass without Sanji saying anything further. “Why exactly did you do that?”
“Because none of the parenting books we have - ” by which Sanji means the small army of literature he’s amassed in the past two years courtesy of Robin, “ - say anything about swimming insofar as it’s a developmental milestone.”
Zoro tries to make his tired brain parse out what that means, and in the end decides he can’t be bothered. “Can you translate that into something I can understand?” He asks. “It’s late and I spent the whole day trying to keep our kid from killing himself.”
Sanji makes a face at this. “One attempted dip in the ocean isn’t quite what you’re making it out to be,” he stresses, “but fine. Allow me to clarify. I asked Chopper what age kids are normally able to start learning to swim by.”
Which makes much more sense than whatever he’d said the first time, and Zoro tells him as much. Doing so earns him a pillow to the head and they wind up tussling for a bit, but in the end things calm down before they wind up doing any property damage.
“So what was Chopper’s answer?” Zoro asks, once he’s under the covers with his retrieved pillow safely tucked beneath his head. “What’s the right age to teach Sora how to swim?”
“There’s no ‘right’ age, for all intents and purposes,” Sanji says, flashing a set of air quotes just because he knows it annoys Zoro when he does it. “But Chopper said the normal range is somewhere between three and five.”
Zoro considers this. “Sora’s only two,” he notes, and barely two at that. They’d celebrated his most recent birthday a little over a month ago. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Sanji gives him a tiny grin. “Chopper said that two is pretty young, and normally he wouldn’t recommend trying yet.”
“But?” Zoro asks, easily able to tell that the other man still has more to say.
“But Sora’s the product of two, and I quote, ‘absolute monsters who are constantly surpassing normal physical limitations,” Sanji says, his grin broadening. “Chopper figures we may as well try, and, worst case scenario, Sora will be used to the water by the time he develops enough coordination to actually swim.”
“So we’re doing this then?” Zoro asks, and Sanji runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gliding through the blond locks.
“I think we’d better,” he says. “We always knew we’d have to teach him, given that we live on a floating restaurant. Sooner rather than later seems like the best course of action to me. Especially with his fondness for the water.”
“He gets that from you,” Zoro says, intending to stand firm on this point. “I like swimming fine and all, but this obsession of his? I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“Maybe not,” Sanji says, his face morphing into a scowl. “But by that logic he didn’t get his fascination with sharp, pointy objects from me. I swear, Mossball, if he decides he wants to take a shot at your title when he grows up, I will take you down myself.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling over onto his side, Zoro props himself up on one elbow and runs the fingers of his free hand over Sanji’s chest. “You say that, but I think you’re pretty impressed by the whole World’s Greatest Swordsman title.”
“I’m fine with it for you,” Sanji tells him, snatching up Zoro’s hand and nipping at the tips of his fingers. “But that is not the kind of life I want for my - ”
“Our.”
“ - our baby,” Sanji concludes. “He’s meant to grow up safe and happy, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Does it sound like I’m arguing with you?” Zoro asks. “Trust me, Curls. I’m on board with protecting him from the worst the world has to offer for as long as we can.”
“Including something as simple as the water,” he adds. “I don’t care if it might take him a while to learn. With the way he’s been going after it lately, I think it’s worth it to start teaching him now.”
“I agree,” Sanji assures him. “However, that does bring up another problem.”
“Oh yeah?” Zoro wonders. “What’s that?”
Sanji makes a face and huffs. “Well, I don’t know about you, my mossy darling, but I’ve never physically taught someone how to swim before. I’m not entirely sure how to go about doing it.”
“ … huh.” Zoro says after thinking this over for a bit. “Yeah, that’s - that’s a fair point,” he acknowledges. “Getting him to walk was easy enough once he could hold himself upright, but I’m not so sure about this one.”
“We’ll figure it out, though,” he concludes with a shrug. “I mean, we’ve figured out everything else so far. It can’t be that hard.”
“Those sound like famous last words,” Sanji intones. “Maybe Robin can track some books down for us. Or, I suppose we could always look into hiring an instructor?”
Zoro makes a face at this, and, judging by the expression Sanji’s now sporting, he doesn’t think the blond likes the idea any more than he does.
“Nah.” They both say in tandem.
“I feel like that would remind me too much of the drill sergeants in Germa.” Sanji says, grimacing again. “We’re better off just doing it on our own. Plus, I’m sure Sora will be thrilled once we actually let him in the water.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Zoro nods. “He’ll probably lose his mind, he'll be so excited.”
“Right, so this will be fun,” Sanji says decisively. “We can start tomorrow, so long as the weather’s good.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
*****
“Nonononono! DON’T WANNA!”
Sora’s screams, pitched at just the right decibel level to viciously stab into Zoro’s skull and start a headache brewing, sweep across the Baratie’s secluded back deck. It’s thankfully bereft of customers at the moment, but Zoro’s still surprised when none of the staff poke their heads out to make sure the boy isn’t being murdered.
Meanwhile, Sanji, who’d taken the full force of Sora’s wailing because it’d been yelled directly in his face, looks like he’s about two seconds from flinging himself overboard to escape whatever demon has possessed their son. He shoots a beseeching look at Zoro over the top of the baby’s head, and the swordsman reacts by immediately holding his hands up defensively.
“You better not be about to ask me to try and fix him,” Zoro says preemptively. “I don’t have a clue what his problem is.”
“His problem is readily apparent,” Sanji says through clenched teeth. “What with how I suggested he get in the water with me and he promptly lost his mind.”
Which, what the hell is up with that? Zoro would dearly love to know. Less than twenty four hours ago, Sora had been bound and determined to risk life and limb if it meant he could jump into the All Blue. Whereas now the opportunity has been freely offered to him and he’s acting like he’s about to be murdered.
“This is all your fault,” Sanji announces, his words causing Zoro to gape at him. “You’re the one who was with him when he tried to get into the water yesterday. Clearly you overreacted and now he’s traumatized.”
“Seriously?” Zoro demands incredulously. “Curls, an attack by all Four Emperors couldn’t traumatize this kid. The actual problem is likely that he’s a contrary little bas - brat, and now that he’s being offered the water it’s not so exciting anymore.”
Sanji gives him a look that could blister the paint off the Baratie’s hull, but Zoro holds firm. Sora’s embraced the concept of the ‘Terrible Twos’ wholeheartedly in recent weeks, and the swordsman isn’t taking the blame for something he didn’t do.
They eye each other for a few more seconds, until finally Sanji’s expression softens somewhat. “You’re right,” he admits, sounding annoyed at having to admit as much. “That’s probably exactly what the issue is, but what do we do now?”
Zoro shrugs, figuring that much is obvious. “We remind him that he thinks the water looks fun and convince him to get in that way. You swim like you were made for it. Why don’t you leave him up here with me and show him what you can do?”
Letting out a thoughtful hum, Sanji glances back and forth between Sora and the water a few times. Then he nods decisively and presses a kiss to the boy’s temple.
“Did you hear that, darling?” He asks. “For once in his life Daddy had a good idea. How about you let me hand you over to him and then we’ll see if we can’t get you into a better mood.”
The worst of his shrieks having subsided, Sora nevertheless grumbles irritably as he’s passed from one parent to the other. He mutters another ‘don’t wanna’ for good measure, and then yanks at Zoro’s earrings to further express his displeasure.
“Thanks, buddy,” Zoro says, unbothered as he detaches grasping fingers from the dangling gold bars. “But you’ve got to look at the cook right now, okay? Go on, watch what he can do.”
“Right, Sora, c’mon, look at Papa,” Sanji croons, waving a hand to get the baby’s attention. “See where I’m going?”
Since he’s already sporting his swimwear, there’s no need for Sanji to strip off his regular clothes. Instead, he waits until Sora’s looking at him, and then takes a running leap off the deck, diving gracefully into the water like someone who was born to be there.
Sora lets out a startled squeak when Sanji vanishes, his blue eyes going wide as he tries and fails to track the shape that’s moving under water. His earlier displeasure forgotten, he leans forward where he’s safely held in Zoro’s arms, clearly trying to figure out where the cook had gone.
“Papa?” He asks when Sanji has yet to come up for air. “Dada, where Papa?”
“Down there,” Zoro says, pointing helpfully at where he can just barely make out Sanji gliding back towards the ship. “Do you see him?”
Sora starts to shake his head, and it’s at this moment that Sanji breaches the surface. Shaking wet hair out of his eyes, water droplets flying in every direction, he gives them a bright grin and swims forward until he’s at the edge of the deck.
“How is it?” Zoro asks, even though the look on Sanji’s face is answer enough.
“Gorgeous,” he says, exactly as Zoro had anticipated. “The perfect temperature for swimming in.”
“You hear that, buddy?” Zoro asks, bouncing Sora slightly. “Papa says the water’s nice.”
Sora hums at this, kicking his feet in the air as he glances back and forth between each parent. “Nice?” He repeats, like he wants confirmation.
“Very nice,” Sanji assures him, holding out his hands as he continues treading water. “Do you want to come see for yourself?”
Sora makes a face, but at the same time starts squirming pointedly. Recognizing his signal for wanting to be put down, Zoro plants him on his feet and watches him toddle over to the end of the deck.
Coming to a halt right at the very edge, he tucks himself into a squat and peers down at Sanji where he’s still lazily bobbing in the water. “Hi, Papa!” He chirps, making Sanji laugh.
“Hi, baby,” he says, moving the last little ways to the deck so that he can curl his hands over the edge. He hoists himself up just enough that he can press his forehead to Sora’s, and then smacks a kiss to the boy’s cheek. “Can I take you in the water with me?”
Sora takes his time considering this, but eventually he nods. “Okay, water,” he announces, and Zoro takes that as his cue to step in.
“Move back and I’ll hand him over to you,” he tells Sanji. He waits a beat for the other man to do as instructed, and then bends down to hook his hands under Sora’s armpits. “Alright, here we go.”
Sora giggles as Zoro picks him up, shifting around like the swordsman has found a ticklish spot. He allows himself to be swung out over the water without any more fuss, however, and then Sanji’s there to grab him.
“Wet!” Sora squeaks as his feet hit the water. He kicks out, sending a small wave directly into Sanji’s face, but the cook just laughs.
“You’re so observant, darling.” He says as he cradles the baby against his chest one handed. “The water is, indeed, very wet.”
Sora giggles at this and starts splashing as much as he can, happily chanting ‘Wet wet wet’ to himself over and over. Then he pauses, cocking his head to one side so that he can peer up at Zoro. “Dada come?”
“Of course he’s coming,” Sanji croons, at the same time giving Zoro a look that dares him to claim otherwise. “Right, Marimo?”
In answer, Zoro jumps off the deck, landing with a heavy splash that sends Sora shrieking and Sanji sputtering.
“That’s not what I meant!” Sanji barks when Zoro surfaces. He’s doing his best to wipe the water from his eyes while simultaneously holding Sora and keeping them both afloat. “God, you’re such an ass.”
“Ass!” Sora bellows, and Zoro hoots with laughter.
“Nice, Curls,” he taunts, swimming just far enough away to be out of kicking range. “That’s a great one to be teaching him.”
“Get back here and take your lumps like a man!” Sanji insists, hindered in his attempts to chase after Zoro by the child in his arms. “I mean it, you mossy dolt. You’re mine!”
“Well yeah,” Zoro agrees. “Everybody knows that.”
Sanji turns hilariously pink at this, and Zoro decides to take this as a sign that it’s safe to come closer. Edging carefully within range, he rocks gently in the water, letting the waves of the All Blue wash over him.
“So,” he says eventually. “Now what?”
Sanji wrinkles his nose. “Well, we’ve got him in the water, which was the first step. Now, I don’t know, maybe we start with learning how to float?”
Zoro glances down at Sora, who in turn is busy squirming as much as Sanji’s hold on him will allow. “Good luck getting him to hold still long enough for that,” he snorts.
“Hey!” Sanji huffs, looking offended. “He’s a very smart baby, he’ll figure it out.”
Zoro is well aware of how smart Sora is. That’s not the problem. What is the problem is the fact that he’s two, and is going to see anything they try to do with him as some big game. Still, he really does need to learn to swim given where and how they live.
“Alright,” he says aloud, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
*****
In the end they don’t wind up teaching Sora to swim in a single day. In reality, they don’t wind up teaching him much of anything beyond the fact that he can play them off one and other by pouting to his little heart’s content. However, since he’d technically already known this, Zoro decides they’re no further behind or ahead.
It’s hardly a day wasted, though, not with the way Sora soaks up every second of it, clearly having the time of his life. Even better, he’s exhausted by the end of it, so they’re able to pour him into bed after a quick supper, and he goes down without the slightest bit of fuss.
Pleased by this development, Zoro drags Sanji back to their room for some fun of their own. They enjoy a thoroughly enjoyable evening without any pint sized interruptions, and eventually drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that neither of them has anywhere to be tomorrow, thanks to the fact that Sanji had taken back to back shifts off.
Unfortunately, it seems that no one had bothered to tell Sora that days off are for sleeping in. This is showcased by the fact that Zoro finds himself rudely awakened at some ungodly hour by a giggling toddler cannonballing into their bed.
He comes to with a start, only years of honing his observation haki keeping him from instinctively reaching for his swords when he realizes there’s no danger. Next to him, Sanji is groaning pitifully into his pillow, while Sora lies spread eagled between them, happily cackling up at the ceiling.
“Dada! Papa!” He shouts, loud enough that Zoro half expects to hear Zeff start stirring down the hall. “Up up up!”
“No no no!” Lying face down on the mattress, Sanji grabs his pillow and shoves it over his head, effectively hiding everything but his hands and wrists from sight. “Baby boy, do you have any idea what time it is?”
Shockingly, Sora doesn’t answer this. Instead, he kicks out with his little legs, catching Zoro in the chin with one foot and digging the other into a blanket covered spot that may or may not be Sanji’s left shoulder.
“Papa up!” He commands sternly. “Wanna go wet!”
“Ugh, that had better be some new concept of toilet training and not what I think it is,” Sanji mutters, his voice coming out muffled due to the bedding. “Sora, it’s - honestly I don’t even know what time it is. Too early for me to be awake when I don’t have to be in the kitchen, that’s for sure.”
Zoro glances at the clock that hangs on the wall outside their room’s ensuite bathroom. It’s actually still too dark to easily make it out, but if he squints enough, he can just barely see the numbers. “Looks like it’s just after five,” he says helpfully, and Sanji makes a noise like a dying animal.
“Good god,” he whines. “Sora, why?”
Sora pauses in the act of steadily digging his heels into Sanji’s back. His face screws up thoughtfully, like he’s seriously considering the question, and then, “Wanna go wet!”
Zoro can’t help it, he laughs. Long and hard, and without pause until Sanji lifts his pillow just enough that he can see a single blue eye glaring balefully up at him.
“Oh come on,” he says, admittedly not trying all that hard to get his amusement under control. “It’s cute.”
“At a quarter after five in the morning?” Sanji says incredulously. “I think not.”
“Papa!” Sora interrupts before Zoro can respond to that. “Papa, water please?”
“Aww, look at that, Curls,” Zoro grins. “He’s using manners just like you taught him.”
“Yes, I can see that, Marimo,” Sanji retorts, lifting the pillow a little higher. “If only I’d had as much luck imparting such lessons on you. Wouldn’t that be nice. Nevertheless, Sora, darling, it’s too early for the water. We can’t swim when it’s still dark out.”
“I mean,” Zoro says. “If you really think about it, you and I have - ”
“Roronoa Zoro you are going to stop ‘helping’ me right this second, or I will not be held responsible for my actions,” Sanji says, speaking over him. “I said we can’t swim when it’s still dark out. That’s a very important family rule.”
“Uh, one you just made up.” Zoro stresses, grunting when Sanji somehow manages to kick him without jostling Sora. “Nice, Curls.”
“There’s more where that came from if you don’t behave,” Sanji promises.
Finally coming all the way out from under his pillow, he rolls over onto his back with a tired sigh. He’s not left alone for long, though, because Sora’s quick to scramble over and flop down on his chest.
“Papaaa,” he pleads. “Water now?”
“Would that you were this amenable to getting into the tub for a bath,” Sanji notes, resting one hand on the baby’s back. “It’s too early, Sora. You haven’t even had breakfast yet, and then, of course, there’s the half hour rule after eating. We can’t have you getting a cramp in the middle of the ocean.”
Sora stares at him blankly, and Zoro clamps his teeth together as tight as he can so that he doesn’t start laughing again.
“At least we know he had fun yesterday?” He tries, once he’s certain he has himself under control.
Sanji gives him a suspicious look, but nods after a beat. “There is that,” he agrees. “Isn’t that right, darling?” He adds for Sora’s benefit. “You liked swimming with Daddy and I yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Yes!” Sora crows, pumping a tiny fist in the air. “Swim swim swim! Wet wet wet!”
“I’m not sure how I feel about this sudden insistence on repeating things in threes,” Sanji says. “Did you teach him that?”
“When have you ever heard me do that?” Zoro wants to know. “It’s probably just another habit he’ll do for a bit until he grows out of it. In the meantime, I suggest you focus on more important things.”
“Such as?” Sanji asks.
Zoro jerks his chin in Sora’s direction. “He wants to swim, and you’re not working today. There’s also no way any of us is falling back to sleep after all this, and by the time everyone is dressed, fed, and digested to your satisfaction - ”
“It’s a safety hazard!”
“ - the sun will be fully up,” Zoro concludes. “I’m pretty sure the weather’s supposed to be nice today, so we may as well give him what he wants.”
“And if he tries the same stunt again tomorrow?” Sanji asks. “We can’t just let him have every single thing he asks for. That’s not healthy.”
Zoro shrugs. “It’s also a problem for tomorrow,” he decides. “C’mon, Curls. We don’t get to do this all that often. What’s it going to hurt?”
Sanji stills, looking caught. “Well, I mean - in the grand scheme of things, nothing, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” Zoro says, already nodding. Sitting up, he ignores the way something cracks in his neck and starts climbing out of bed, careful not to accidentally tromp on Sora in the process. “Then get up, and let’s make a day of it.”
“You mean another day,” Sanji corrects, always needing to be the one to get the last word in. “Alright, fine,” he says, sitting up as well and taking Sora with him in the process. “It’s clearly two against one and my matching mossy boys have gotten the better of me. Breakfast first, then everyone is to get washed and dressed, and then, yes, we can go swimming again.”
“What’s the point of washing up if we’re just going to wind up in the salt water?” Zoro asks, but his words are all but drowned out by the sound of Sora’s victorious cries.
“Waterrrr,” he crows, both hands waving in the air as Sanji carries him over to where Zoro is now standing. “Gonna go in water! Swim time!”
“Not yet, breakfast first!” Sanji says firmly. “Growing boys need proper nutrition, and your father gets very cranky when I don’t feed him too. We’re doing this my way or we’re not doing it at all. Is that clear?”
Someday, Zoro thinks as Sora gives them another flat stare, Sanji’s going to realize that reasoning with a toddler is a lost cause. Today is not that day, though, so he resigns himself to sitting back and enjoying the show. All told, it sounds like a pretty great morning to him.