Sucking on his thumb with a particular rhythm, August contemplates the large pieces of his foam puzzle. Slapping his palm on one of the corner pieces, he spends the next several minutes trying to jam another into its side, obviously not made to fit the cut. Somehow, after a few smacks of the fist, the now irregularly shaped puzzle is complete!
Sliding his hand from his mouth, saliva trailing, August widely grins. What was supposed to be a fierce lion - his favourite animal, after seeing them at the zoo with Father - is now a mangled mess of eyeballs and fur.
"Haa-blahh!" he exclaims, clapping his hands together, sharing the warm moisture between hands. He doesn't care one bit, because he is far too busy congradulating himself on being so smart. Figuring out an entire puzzle by himself calls for.. a cookie!
Looking up at the doorway and the couch, August pouts to find his father nowhere to be seen. Oh well, he'll just have to reward himself. No one will destroy his masterpiece before then, he's sure. Pulling himself up with considerable help from the couch, it takes the boy a long time to put one foot in front of another and manage to avoid bumping into things. How do people do this so easily?
Keeping himself up with the wall, August keeps his eyes on his socks, assuring his self that he won't fall this way. The kitchen tiles replace the wooden floors of the living room and hallway, and August risks the look up - kitchen! Eyes wandering the white room, he spots the jar easily. However, the position of the jar isn't heartwarming - how dare his father put the jar atop the fridge! How is he supposed to help himself now?
Lower lip trembling, the waterworks begin. Large, sloppy tears roll down the baby's cheeks, followed by wails of discontent. It takes a matter of seconds to have Pippin bounding in to come to his rescue.
"What is it, kiddo? What's wrong? Did something get you spooked?" Cradling August gingerly, Pippin touches the boy's now-wet nose, trying his best to distract the boy. Thinking quickly, he eyes the jar of cookies. "How about a snack, huh August? Will a cookie make you feel better?"
The magic word! The tears immediately stop, August opening up his eyes, all of his attention on his father as he fumbles with his free arm to grab a cookie from the deep jar. Rummaging blindly, his fingers finally find the desired cookie, lifting it out in front of August's face. The baby eagerly begins to eat it, tiny teeth barely poking through his gums enough to help to chew it.
Rubbing the boy's back to further soothe, Pippin kisses the top of the boy's head. "There! All better!" he exclaims in a silly voice, adjusting the baby's weight on his arm. "Let's bring you back to the playroom, okay?"
It took August a strife to reach the kitchen, but it takes Pippin merely eight strides to return to the playroom with his son. Setting the boy down on the soft couch to finish the cookie, he flips on the television to the nearest children's program.
It's then when his attention is drawn to the floor.. and the horrid puzzle. Pippin screws up his face. No wonder the boy was so frightened, that thing's hideous!
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