The Chibi Problem Part 13
All I can say about the next three weeks is thank Buddha for Costco and Smart & Final! Without the ease of quantity bundles of eggs, milk, cheese and ground round, I might have made Lunatic of the Year a lot sooner.
Another thing Pete didn't tell me about raising chibits: they can strip a cow faster than a school of piranhas, and a vegetable garden neater than those gophers in the old WB 'toons.
Gawd!
It wasn't just my chibits, I discovered during the second week. BabyDoll was hosting a new-mommie club for chibi-and-chibit, including DeathSky's wufei mate and their two new babies and the shy trowa who had been widowed, wooed and won by the young wufei, and who now had a new chibit.
In my spare (?) time, I had been playing with the power tools again, and had made some additions to the condo, giving BabyDoll plenty of room for his candlelight suppers and chibit play group.
I also called Pete and whimpered a lot.
Considering he had warned me about mixing domestic and wild chibis, he was pretty sympathetic. He'd never seen a chibi-mommie make scrambled eggs for their chibits, but then, he'd never had a chibi like BabyDoll. He told me to relax and just roll with it, so that's what I tried to do.
A couple of months before I knew I was going to be a gramma, I entered BabyDoll in a show an hour north of here. Pete called the week before the show to ask if I was going to take advantage of the walk-in pets-only class.
I'd never heard of that, but once he explained, I jumped on it. A walk-in for pets only is a class of entries, mostly for fun, for pet quality or non-registered chibis. It would enable me to not only keep BabyDoll happy in the ring, but to keep the alphas happy outside it. As a new mommie, BabyDoll was permitted to have his babies with him. Since the alphas would probably go zero if I tried to take the babies (and BabyDoll) away for a whole day, they could go with.
We had a conference on the subject as soon as I got off the phone with Pete.
So, (I told them enthusiastically) not only do I not lose the entry fee, but also BabyDoll gets a shot at more points, aaand you guys get to go with and show off how pretty you are! Plus, everyone will fall in love with your little darlings!
I sounded like a camp counselor, trying to convince a bunch of nine-year-olds that they could have fun for two weeks without TV, a computer or GameBoy. And the alphas looked even less convinced.
BabyDoll and I had talked earlier. It didn't bother him, of course; he loves shows and this time he would get to show off even more. He was on the new addition playing with the babies (now 23 days old). They were all armed (how? you ask; well, if I knew that, I could probably make my living at the tables in Vegas) and BabyDoll was happily teaching them how not to kill each other. He was listening to me, though, and when it became clear that the boys weren't biting, he looked over and let out a booming "Shiiiniiigamiiiii!"
Suddenly, the ruler of Mt. Olympus spoke. I almost fell over at the sound; BabyDoll has always had a rather lilting call, except when frightened or angry, when it ratchets up a couple of notches to shrill. But this was practically a basso.
Holy hormones, Batman!
The alphas went very still for a long moment, then put their heads together to rumble and growl. They were all smiles when they returned to me, and agreed that the show would be a lovely outing for the whole family, and that they looked forward to the opportunity to make new friends and meet new admirers.
Stop it, guys; I said with a hand to my stomach, you're making me nauseous.
And that is how we all ended up flying up the I-15 at 0617 on a Saturday morning. I had driving music on the CD, set for random play, and was happily singing along with the Beach Boys, Cheap Trick, AC-DC, BonJovi, Hanoi Rocks and Queen.
BabyDoll kept glancing my way from his place in his car seat, a slightly distressed look on his adorable little face.
C'mon, sweetie, I coaxed. Let me have some fun. We both know I can't sing for shit, but it's a road trip!
He made a great show of considering, before sighing heavily and giving a martyr's shrug.
The babies didn't mind my crappy singing. They bounced and chattered and called their individual signatures. The alphas gallantly did their best to pretend that none of it was happening.
They now had their own car seats, and were being quite good about staying in them. The babies were too small for individual seats, so they were sharing a heavily padded car crate.
"Surfin' Safari" was just finishing up as I pulled into the parking lot. I parked and shut off the engine, and BabyDoll pulled his fingers out of his ears with a relieved sigh.
Was it really that bad? I asked.
He pouted for a few seconds, then glomped me around the neck and brought one leathery wing up to tap my nose. We both laughed, and I promised not to sing on the way home.
As I was unloading, Pete came loping up, his champion wufei on his shoulder. We hugged and laughed, and his wufei eyed my wufei curiously.
"Kisama!" snorted Killer.
"Injustice!" replied Pete's guy.
Don't start anything, I muttered to Killer, or your name will be He Who Lives Alone In the Tree Outside. He gave me a raised eyebrow, snorted again, and turned his back on the other wufei.
BabyDoll giggled and fluttered over to give Killer a hug and he sprouted the typical bemused smirk.
So, is that the daddy? asked Pete, admiring Killer. He's a good-lookin' little guy.
He's one of the daddies, I agreed. And he's a very handsome guy.
BabyDoll launched from the top of the car door and soared about fifty feet straight up. Angel followed only a moment behind and they both paused, hovering for a few seconds, before diving for the ground. Pete's mouth dropped open as BabyDoll pulled up in a long series of barrel rolls on one side while Angel executed a beautiful immelman. They landed on my shoulders, both smirking.
Hot damn! What a pair! yelled Pete. Darlin', you hit the jackpot with these three!
I petted my fliers and reached out to pick up Killer for his share of petting. I don't know why everyone's so afraid to interact with the ferals; these guys and the rest of the gundam are great.
Yeah, said Pete slowly, looking us over. But if you're smart, you'll keep that part to yourself.
I raised my eyebrows.
Hey, I got no problem with it, but some of these people make a living outta this. Ya know?
I thought about it for a couple of minutes while BabyDoll directed Killer and Angel to get the babies' carrier.
If no one believed that mixing domestic and feral chibis was possible, or that chibis should be allowed to pick their own mates, I could stir up a real hornets' nest for a lot of people. I looked at Pete. Some of these people, the small hobby breeders, were my friends.
Pete was a relaxed, easy-going guy. Nothing seemed to surprise or disturb him, but some of the others, like the elderly lady who spoiled and pampered her quatre and trowa, the Viet Nam vet who treated his heero like one of his dead buddies, and the woman who did rescue for wufeis, well, I didn't want to dump the worms in their laps, too.
I can't upset any applecarts today? I whined playfully.
Nah, he drawled. It's too sunny. Only on gloomy, rainy days.
I sighed, and BabyDoll "oooiiiii"ed and patted my cheek. It's okay, sweetie; just a little politics, I explained. He didn't know what "politics" meant, but he took me at my word and nuzzled my jaw.
Killer and Angel were just tucking the carrier safely onto my cart.
Wanna see the babies? I asked Pete.
Hell, yeah, he grinned.
I opened the box and three pair of innocent and highly dangerous eyes regarded us. They looked at me, and called in unison, "moooiiiii!" Then they looked at Pete and broke out in their usual calls of "Shiiiniiigamiiiii!", "omae o korosu!" and "kisama!" There was a brief flurry of wings, feet and hands, and then all three of the precious little darlings were armed and ready for anything.
Whoa! yelped Pete, jumping back. Good god, girl! Did they hatch with those weapons?!
Pete, I wish I knew! I laughed. C'mon, now, BabyDoll. If you guys can't have your stuff in the building, the little ones can't either.
BabyDoll heaved a huge sigh and rolled his violet eyes, but he began to disarm his chibits. The heero and the wufei both grumbled and handed over their arsenals reluctantly.
The baby duo, however, stared up at me, his violet eyes puddling up, his chin trembling, and hugging his scythe tight against his chest. "Moooiiiii?" he whimpered. "Moooiiiii..."
Killer and Angel looked at each other, then at BabyDoll. Clearly, they wanted no part in disarming the duo chibit.
BabyDoll picked his little darling up to cuddle and thrum. The little guy wrapped one arm around his mommie's neck and hid his face against BabyDoll's shoulder, crying "moooiiiii..." He still clutched his scythe.
I felt like fetid pond scum.
Equilibrium was restored, though, when the baby wufei swarmed up and snatched the scythe, handing it to me with a string of "kisama, no baka, onna, injustice!" His brother wailed plaintively, but the wufei just folded his arms over his chest righteously and glared.
Pete and I looked at each other, as BabyDoll attempted to soothe his emotional chibit. We both struggled not to laugh and nearly wet ourselves in the process.
Yep, said Pete when we had recovered, and were making our way into the hall, nothin' like pets to keep life interestin'. He chuckled softly. Better you than me.
And I thought we were friends!
TBC...
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