[ She has something salty to respond with, but Scottie Dog starts wibbling and her attention snaps back to the baby on the floor. She coos, Aw, it's alright sweetheart, don't cry, and kneels on the carpet to divest the adorable lump of his wet diaper.
She makes due without diapers until he gets there: fetches a dish rag and lays it over his waist like a makeshift nappy before lowering herself onto her elbows over the baby to hum at him. Really, it's so easy to entertain a small child, just make faces at them, blow raspberries in their stomachs and every once and a while let her the tips of her hair brush across his face. Getting sneezed on was never fun, but Jr. had gotten over his little cold since last week and just gaggles.
At one point she gets up and unlocks the door, so by the time Derek arrives, she's reclined on her side by the baby, poking his protruding stomach and singing the ABC's. If not only her god son, this kid is her pet project and will be a genius no matter how emotionally and intellectually constipated his parents were. He's already ahead of the game with the infantile werewolf senses; Derek's close, and she can tell because he goes rigid and stares at the door to the apartment (living at home lost it's appeal really quickly, no matter how much her mother wanted to make up for being inattentive during the end of her high school career) like an over eager puppy.
But Lydia waits until the door actually opens to call: ]
Look, Scott, your favorite uncle's here. And he brought you diapers~
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She makes due without diapers until he gets there: fetches a dish rag and lays it over his waist like a makeshift nappy before lowering herself onto her elbows over the baby to hum at him. Really, it's so easy to entertain a small child, just make faces at them, blow raspberries in their stomachs and every once and a while let her the tips of her hair brush across his face. Getting sneezed on was never fun, but Jr. had gotten over his little cold since last week and just gaggles.
At one point she gets up and unlocks the door, so by the time Derek arrives, she's reclined on her side by the baby, poking his protruding stomach and singing the ABC's. If not only her god son, this kid is her pet project and will be a genius no matter how emotionally and intellectually constipated his parents were. He's already ahead of the game with the infantile werewolf senses; Derek's close, and she can tell because he goes rigid and stares at the door to the apartment (living at home lost it's appeal really quickly, no matter how much her mother wanted to make up for being inattentive during the end of her high school career) like an over eager puppy.
But Lydia waits until the door actually opens to call: ]
Look, Scott, your favorite uncle's here. And he brought you diapers~