Silly Things

Astute

Chapter 10

Robert adjusted the ice-pack, gingerly pressing it more firmly against his bandaged temple. He couldn't help but wince...

He was hurting, but glad to be home safe at least. Sitting in his comfy recliner, just nursing his injuries – and of course that latte he suddenly developed a craving for after being kicked square in the head. After the events earlier, being able to put his paws up in a soft cotton bath-robe was wondrous.

Though he did wonder why being kicked in the head made him want a coffee. That was just bizarre.

"Daaaad?" his eight-year-old son enquired, looking a little concerned as he wandered into the softly-lit den. "What the heck did you do to your head?"

Robert shrugged. "I uh, just slipped on the stairwell at the university. Came down pretty hard."

"Oh. Klutz. You okay?" Mike flicked an ear as he took a seat on the recliner's wide armrest. He looked pointedly at the bandages encircling Robert's leg, just below the rolled up leg of his corduroy pants. "What about your knee? That looks pretty bad too."

The grownup chortled, taking a sip of his coffee. He rarely allowed himself coffee; maybe it was time to stop being such a stickler for foolish things like that. He was getting older now. It was time for him to just enjoy life a little more, or so he tried to tell himself. "It'll be alright soon, I hope. My headache worries me more." That was a lie. His knee could well need surgery, but his son had a long list of little quirks, and the notion of his dad going into surgery of any kind frightened him.

"You got injured during football, didn't you?" Mike asked, leaning onto his dad's shoulder affectionately. There was just a touch of admonition in the kit's voice.

"I did. Don't sit on the armrest, Michael, you'll damage it."

Mike promptly slid onto his dad's lap, careful to avoid hurting the leg. "You had a bad day," the kit said gravely. "Anything I can do?"

"Nope." Without waiting a second, Robert gave his son a huge hug. It had only been a few days since Mike had been traumatically raped, and yet he was more concerned about his dad's headache. "Thanks for asking though."

"No charge."

"I think I'll just sit on my backside all night and let the pain sort of... subside."

"There's some blood on your whiskers, you know."

"I know. Your hair is getting pretty long now, you know."

Mike grinned and let his dad tenderly brush back some of his medium-length head-fur. "Yep. Gonna grow it. Wanna see how it looks if it's longer."

"How much longer?"

The kit snickered. "Just a bit."

"That's alright then. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were a girl, would we?" They both chuckled. "Urgh." Robert touched his head again. "I think this headache is just getting started."

"I'll get you something for it! Don't move!" Mike made tojump to his unshod paws, but he thought better of it and rather cautiouslypulled himself off his dad. He made his 56yViyY