Wednesday Chibi
Mar. 30th, 2016 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavandarlizard2Ah, what I wouldn't do for a gundam of these guys right now. ^___^ "Here, Killer; your job is to weed and de-pest the plants. No, I don't need to count the carcasses, thanks."
Chibi Problem 033
Mike called to me over the fence on Saturday morning and waved me over.
When I got to the fence – surrounded by about forty Chibis – he asked bemusedly, “I forgot to ask earlier; do you like potato salad or macaroni salad? Or maybe the Mediterranean salad with the cheese and olives?”
I blinked while the Chibis began giving him their opinions. “I eat all three; why?”
“I’m getting ready to start making salad and I don’t want to make something you don’t like,” he said reasonably.
BabyDoll landed on my shoulder and gaped at Mike.
“Oooooiii!” he exclaimed. “Shiiiiinigaaaaami! Mooooiiii! No mustard!”
Mike and I both blinked. “Did he just... say ‘no mustard’?”
“Um... Yeah.” I stared at my Chibi who simply snorted at me. “I... uh... don’t like mustard in my potato salad...”
“Oh. Okay. I don’t make mine with mustard. I don’t like it either.”
“Oh. Great.” We kind of stared at each other for a moment. Fubar came trotting from the garage to stand at Mike’s side, gazing up at me with a doggy grin and a wagging tail. The Chibis stared back at him, some of the more cautious ones fingering their weapons.
“Um... You know,” I said suddenly, “Why don’t I make a pasta salad?”
“No, you’re my guest; you don’t need to cook.”
I snorted. “Pasta salad is not cooking. But that reminds me; can I bring something? Chips, condiments?”
“Absolutely not!” He sounded horrified. “The troops will never let me hear the end of it!”
“The end of what?” BabyDoll peered at him suspiciously as Mike began to redden.
“Oooooooiii! Oooooiii!” BabyDoll grabbed hold of my hair to get my attention. “Moooiiiii! Shiiiiniiiigaaamiiiiii! Moiiii!”
My jaw hit the ground. “BabyDoll! No! Of course not!” Now my face was probably as red as Mike’s. My Chibi and I were going to have to have a talk...
“What’s the matter?” asked Mike, mystified.
I was not going to have this conversation right now. *Geez*.
“Just a logistical thing,” I hedged. “I’ll straighten it out. I’ll make pasta salad and bring some chips. Maybe some dip too.”
“But… Um... Okay....”
I grinned at him; probably scared him with all the teeth. “Okay! See you later!” And I hustled my butt and my Chibi into the house and shut the slider.
“BabyDoll!” I cried, lifting him down to cuddle him. “Mike is a friend! That’s all! I don’t need a *mate*!”
He snuggled against me warbling up and down the scales. His mates appeared as if by magic, scowling at me for upsetting their little buzz-saw. I opened my mouth again to explain a few things, but then shut it again.
What was the point? I didn’t want to go over that with my BabyDoll; first, because he wouldn’t understand and second, because I didn’t want to think about it anyway.
“BabyDoll,” I sighed instead, “Humans don’t always have mates; it’s okay that way.” He gave me a searching look, then plastered himself against me, thrumming against my collarbone. The alphas looked at each other, shrugged and returned to checking their weapons in preparation for the party.
“No tanks,” I said automatically to Angel. “Or explosives,” to Killer. They both looked disappointed, but made no protests. “Come on, guys; let’s see if we have the makings of pasta salad.”
And I thought kids could embarrass the hell out of you.
Chibi Problem 033
Mike called to me over the fence on Saturday morning and waved me over.
When I got to the fence – surrounded by about forty Chibis – he asked bemusedly, “I forgot to ask earlier; do you like potato salad or macaroni salad? Or maybe the Mediterranean salad with the cheese and olives?”
I blinked while the Chibis began giving him their opinions. “I eat all three; why?”
“I’m getting ready to start making salad and I don’t want to make something you don’t like,” he said reasonably.
BabyDoll landed on my shoulder and gaped at Mike.
“Oooooiii!” he exclaimed. “Shiiiiinigaaaaami! Mooooiiii! No mustard!”
Mike and I both blinked. “Did he just... say ‘no mustard’?”
“Um... Yeah.” I stared at my Chibi who simply snorted at me. “I... uh... don’t like mustard in my potato salad...”
“Oh. Okay. I don’t make mine with mustard. I don’t like it either.”
“Oh. Great.” We kind of stared at each other for a moment. Fubar came trotting from the garage to stand at Mike’s side, gazing up at me with a doggy grin and a wagging tail. The Chibis stared back at him, some of the more cautious ones fingering their weapons.
“Um... You know,” I said suddenly, “Why don’t I make a pasta salad?”
“No, you’re my guest; you don’t need to cook.”
I snorted. “Pasta salad is not cooking. But that reminds me; can I bring something? Chips, condiments?”
“Absolutely not!” He sounded horrified. “The troops will never let me hear the end of it!”
“The end of what?” BabyDoll peered at him suspiciously as Mike began to redden.
“Oooooooiii! Oooooiii!” BabyDoll grabbed hold of my hair to get my attention. “Moooiiiii! Shiiiiniiiigaaamiiiiii! Moiiii!”
My jaw hit the ground. “BabyDoll! No! Of course not!” Now my face was probably as red as Mike’s. My Chibi and I were going to have to have a talk...
“What’s the matter?” asked Mike, mystified.
I was not going to have this conversation right now. *Geez*.
“Just a logistical thing,” I hedged. “I’ll straighten it out. I’ll make pasta salad and bring some chips. Maybe some dip too.”
“But… Um... Okay....”
I grinned at him; probably scared him with all the teeth. “Okay! See you later!” And I hustled my butt and my Chibi into the house and shut the slider.
“BabyDoll!” I cried, lifting him down to cuddle him. “Mike is a friend! That’s all! I don’t need a *mate*!”
He snuggled against me warbling up and down the scales. His mates appeared as if by magic, scowling at me for upsetting their little buzz-saw. I opened my mouth again to explain a few things, but then shut it again.
What was the point? I didn’t want to go over that with my BabyDoll; first, because he wouldn’t understand and second, because I didn’t want to think about it anyway.
“BabyDoll,” I sighed instead, “Humans don’t always have mates; it’s okay that way.” He gave me a searching look, then plastered himself against me, thrumming against my collarbone. The alphas looked at each other, shrugged and returned to checking their weapons in preparation for the party.
“No tanks,” I said automatically to Angel. “Or explosives,” to Killer. They both looked disappointed, but made no protests. “Come on, guys; let’s see if we have the makings of pasta salad.”
And I thought kids could embarrass the hell out of you.
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no subject
Date: 2016-03-31 01:46 am (UTC)"No tanks. Or explosives." Scary thing is, this is probably a necessary command.
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Date: 2016-04-08 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-31 01:52 am (UTC)Tanks?
Explosives?
MATE?
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Date: 2016-04-08 04:11 pm (UTC)^__^
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Date: 2016-04-01 05:02 am (UTC)If you do get your gundam, sign me up for any of the chibits! :^)
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Date: 2016-04-08 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-05-05 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-07 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-08 04:13 pm (UTC)^___^
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Date: 2016-04-09 12:21 pm (UTC)Thank you for updating!!! :-D
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Date: 2016-05-01 05:56 pm (UTC)