Quoted By: >>70109983 >>70110286
>>70109953
“...And she kept falling, so I put a helmet on her. Y’know, to protect her.”
>...Oh thank God, she’s just having the Tumbles. I thought something bad happened. I coil more of my neck into the living room as I grope blindly for the railing at the front steps.
“Okay, but - where did the helmet come from?”
>Hubby-wubby was helping Petunia back to her feet as I asked him. He almost looked afraid to touch her, like when he helped move one of the sculptures that was gonna get sold. It’s adorable.
“Oh, that?”
>He gives a little sheepish grin, his frills picking up a bit. Petunia raised hers as soon as he saw him do it. My heels clack against the hardwood of the front hallway as Damien explains himself.
“I, uh, got into a lot of accidents when I was a kid. Y’know, like the headbutting contest?”
>I roll my eyes. God, it’s a miracle he’s still alive after all the stories I’ve heard from Sophia. He pats the retard helmet, then quickly rights Petunia as it causes her to wobble again.
“So Mom got me this thing and never threw it out once I outgrew it. When we were moving in, I figured it might be useful, so I just threw it in the boxes.”
>Finally in the living room proper, I take a seat on the couch. Petunia giggles as I reach over and nuzzle noses with her.
“Neck rides, Petunia.”
>She giggles and grabs on tight as I lift her up and crane her back to my lap. The sensation of her tiny fingers and thin neck weighing on me brings on that familiar, warm fuzziness. Damien’s gonna have to give me another one once she gets too big for this.
“She’s just having her Tumbles, love bug. We don’t need this.
>Damien looks concerned as I unstrap the helmet from flower girl’s head. Gosh, would it kill him to do some research for once?
“This happens to every brachy, Damien. She isn’t gonna develop her balance until her neck gets long enough to do hooks.”
“But her head…”
cont
“...And she kept falling, so I put a helmet on her. Y’know, to protect her.”
>...Oh thank God, she’s just having the Tumbles. I thought something bad happened. I coil more of my neck into the living room as I grope blindly for the railing at the front steps.
“Okay, but - where did the helmet come from?”
>Hubby-wubby was helping Petunia back to her feet as I asked him. He almost looked afraid to touch her, like when he helped move one of the sculptures that was gonna get sold. It’s adorable.
“Oh, that?”
>He gives a little sheepish grin, his frills picking up a bit. Petunia raised hers as soon as he saw him do it. My heels clack against the hardwood of the front hallway as Damien explains himself.
“I, uh, got into a lot of accidents when I was a kid. Y’know, like the headbutting contest?”
>I roll my eyes. God, it’s a miracle he’s still alive after all the stories I’ve heard from Sophia. He pats the retard helmet, then quickly rights Petunia as it causes her to wobble again.
“So Mom got me this thing and never threw it out once I outgrew it. When we were moving in, I figured it might be useful, so I just threw it in the boxes.”
>Finally in the living room proper, I take a seat on the couch. Petunia giggles as I reach over and nuzzle noses with her.
“Neck rides, Petunia.”
>She giggles and grabs on tight as I lift her up and crane her back to my lap. The sensation of her tiny fingers and thin neck weighing on me brings on that familiar, warm fuzziness. Damien’s gonna have to give me another one once she gets too big for this.
“She’s just having her Tumbles, love bug. We don’t need this.
>Damien looks concerned as I unstrap the helmet from flower girl’s head. Gosh, would it kill him to do some research for once?
“This happens to every brachy, Damien. She isn’t gonna develop her balance until her neck gets long enough to do hooks.”
“But her head…”
cont