Baby Oc

A little while ago, I wrote a tale about how the name Octavius became a part of our family lexicon. The result of that wandering tale has been that the boys frequently ask to pretend that I am “baby Oc”. One of them pretends to be daddy, and the other grampa. I talk in a squeaky baby voice, while they talk in the deepest voices they can imagine. We have all sorts of pretend adventures together.

A few weeks ago, I was baby Oc again. N was being Daddy, and C was being grampa. As I was getting dragged in to their world, I pulled their momma in also. “C’mon Momma! Come play!”

“Okay. Who am I?”

“Perseus!” I shouted. The two boys looked at me. “Percy, for short” I said. They thought this was fine. If you’re confused as to why I inflicted this name on my wife, read this tale. Yes, N still doesn’t pronounce “er”.

My wife glared at me as the boys shouted “C’mon Percy! C’mon! Let’s play!”

Don’t worry, my comeuppance was on its way.

She joined in, saying that she thought she might need a nap. Just like that we had all assumed new roles.

Grampa immediately started reassuring Percy that she didn’t have to take a nap if she didn’t want to. “Naps? No. You don’t have to take a nap! No one EVER has to take a nap if they don’t want to.”

Meanwhile, Daddy was climbing up into the chair at the computer desk. The computer was on, and the screen saver fish were happily swimming around the screen. Once he had made it up on to the chair, he sat there with his back to us.

“C’mon!” I shouted. “Let’s play!”

“No! I can’t. I have to work. I can’t play.”

He continued staring intently at the fish on the screen.

“But that’s no fun,” I said, looking over at grampa (who was tickling Percy to keep her awake).

“No,” daddy said in his deepest voice. “You go play. I have to work. No time for play!”


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