30 reasons why - Roger Taylor

-REASON NINE-

June 15th, 1979.

Roger had always wanted to be a father.

You could see it in his eyes—the way he looked at his young nieces and nephews, interacting with them, hell, even just by hearing their broken words and giggles. They seemed so precious to him, so pure. He wanted some of his own.

That was what ran through his head as he watched his four year old nephew, Andrew, hand him some sort of contraption made of red and green Legos.

"Did you make this yourself, Andrew?"

"Yes!" The youngster gleamed. He handed his uncle a handful of Legos. "Can you build a dog?"

Roger chuckled. "I don't know if I can do that, but I'll try, buddy."

Christ, the man wanted children of his own.

He wanted little mini versions of him running around his house and asking him to play dress up. He wanted to put them for nap time, teach them how to play the drums, and come home to them after a long day at the studio. He wanted to see them at his concerts, wearing little queen t's.

Of course, under the condition that Rosie be the mother of his children.

All the time, she would always say that she would be a "bad mother," but Roger thought she'd be a great mother. He sees how awe-struck she is watching him play with Andrew as she sits on the couch on the opposite side of where the niece, Malina, sat, her eyes glued onto the television in front of her.

They flew into Norfolk the same day—Roger getting a call from his sister about their father coming home from the hospital. Papa Taylor was in the hospital for a number of health issues, but his homecoming was something Roger was looking forward to. Not to mention that he hasn't seen his parents and sister in forever.

As his sister left to bring the Taylor's home from the hospital, Rosie and Roger were left to babysit her children in the meantime.

Roger's sister had married a Portuguese business man, they seemed very happy. So the whole family had to learn the language to communicate in the beginning, and so did Roger.  

However, still a good eight years later, Rosie still does not know how to speak or understand Portuguese.  She tried, she really did. It was the lack of free time that stood in her way.

So when she watched her boyfriend play with his nieces and nephews, she could only smile at the sight rather than the words.

Rosie laughed as she watched Roger finish building his "dog" (looked more like a giraffe) and gave it to Andrew.

"Uncle Roger, that's not a dog. That's a bear!" Or a bear, in Andrew's perspective.

"Wha—no, it's a dog. See, Andrew, it has the legs, the snout—" Roger pointed at the parts on his "dog" before turning to face Rosie. "Don't you think that this clearly is a dog?"

"I don't know, Rog. Looks awfully like a giraffe."

He sighed in disbelief and looked at the ceiling. "How am I supposed to be a dad if I don't know how to build with Legos?"

"Are you and Aunt Rosie having a baby?" Malina asked.

Oh, in his dreams.

In her mind, she wasn't ready to have children yet. In his, she didn't want children.

Rosie knew nothing about being around children. She grew up as an lonely child to a troubled mother and a father who left without a word. The closest she's been to is staying over at a friend's house who had a baby sister, fourteen years ago.