100 Themes Challenge - 017 -Under the Rain

Under the Rain

The sound of thunder roared throughout the Hamato family's lair. For Splinter, it was an excellent aid for his late night meditation. It was his way of winding down after having to round up four turtle tots and fighting them to go to bed.

The sounds of the rain on the surface massaged his tense and tired mind into a state of ease. Another long day had been conquered and soon he could lay his head down and have a much needed sleep.

Splinter's soothing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pair of tiny feet hitting the hard floor of the dojo. They moved frantically in his direction, accompanied by panicked panting.

Before he could open his eyes, he felt a small weight throw itself into his lap and clamp its arms around his waist. Light sniffles could be heard.

Splinter sighed. “What is the matter, Michelangelo?”

The three-year-old did not reply; he only nuzzled deeper into his father's kimono.

“Allow me to guess: it is the thunder again?”

Mikey flashed him a brief glance with his baby blue eyes and nodded, before returning his face to his father's chest.

“My son, I have explained this before: the thunder is just noise, nothing more. It cannot hurt you,” he rubbed Mikey's shell in soothing circles.

“S-scary...loud,” Mikey whined.

Splinter sighed. “I know it is disturbing you from sleep, but it is no reason to be upset.” Splinter held him tight and stood up. “Come, let's get you back into bed.”

He carried him through the lair back to his bedroom and tucked him back into his bed next to Donatello.

“I know you are frightened, little one, but you must stay in bed. You need your sleep,” Splinter leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Michelangelo.” He stood up and went to leave, but Mikey grabbed his kimono.

“No, daddy,” he whined. “No leave. I s-scared.”

Splinter knelt down beside him again. “Michelangelo, you cannot be scared by a little storm. If I thought it would hurt you, then I would be protecting you, but there is nothing to fear. You need to sleep.”

“Ca-an't sleep. Thunder is loud,” Mikey sat up, pouting. He held his arms up, signaling his father to lift him. “Stay wif you.”

Splinter sighed and took him into his arms. “Alright, but only for a little while. Once the storm passes you must go to bed.”

Mikey rested his head on Splinter's shoulder. “'kay, daddy.”

Splinter sauntered past the bathroom and  Mikey pointed at the door. “Potty, daddy! Gotta pee-pee.”

“You have to go pee-pee?”

Mikey nodded and Splinter set him down and he trotted through the doorway, climbed on the cinder block step in front of the toilet and sat down.

Splinter leaned on the door frame and waited.

Mikey turned and stared at his father with a goofy grin.

Splinter chuckled. “What? Are you finished?”

Mikey paused a second and farted. The sound echoed in the toilet bowl, making the little one giggle madly.

Splinter fought his smile with a stern look. “Michelangelo, what do you say?”

Mikey settled himself down a little. “Excuse me.”

Splinter grinned and went to lift him off the toilet.

“No, wait!” Mikey protested. “I has to clean myself!”

Splinter let him go. “Oh, of course,” he said and waited. Mikey stared at him expectantly. “Go ahead,” Splinter urged him.

“Turn around,” Mikey requested.

Splinter grinned and obeyed. "He waited a few seconds and turned around at the sound of the toilet flushing. “All done?”

Mikey nodded and stepped down.

Splinter scooped him up and continued on his way back to the dojo. Once they passed the kitchen, Mikey pointed again.

“Daddy, can I has cuppie?”

Splinter looked at him and sighed. “Michelangelo, you know I do not like giving you anything to drink before bedtime. I don't want you to have an accident.”

“I no pee-pee in the bed. I just went potty,” Mikey argued.

“This is true. Alright, my son, you may have one cuppie, but you must go to sleep after you drink it,  alright?”

As if the sky had heard the mention of the word “sleep” another rumble of thunder sounded and Mikey clung closer to his father with a whimper.

“I wanna stay wif you tonight.”

Splinter hugged him and then set him on the floor.

“My son, you must overcome this fear of thunder,” he went to the refrigerator, and Mikey ran back to his side and clung to his kimono. “Like I've said, it is nothing more than a loud noise. It cannot hurt you.”

Mikey only whimpered and clung harder. “S-scary.”

Splinter sighed as he retrieved a sippie cup and poured tea into it.

“Would you like me to warm it?”

“Y-yes pwease,” Mikey squeaked.

Splinter put the sippie cup into the microwave and set it to thirty seconds. He then bent down and scooped up the shaking toddler.

“Settle down now, Michelangelo.” The microwave beeped and he retrieved the sippie cup and handed it to Mikey.  

“Tha-ank you, daddy,” Mikey said and accepted the cup.

Splinter took him into the dojo and sat down in his meditative position again.  He cradled Mikey while he sipped on his 'cuppie'.

Splinter closed his eyes and allowed his mind to slip into a relaxed place.

“Daddy...” Mikey's little voice broke up his meditation once again.

Splinter sighed. “Michelangelo, daddy is meditating. You must be quiet and try to fall asleep.”

“But daddy...” Mikey whined.

“Just drink your tea, my son,” Splinter urged.

Mikey dropped his cup on the floor and tried to squirm from his father's grip. Splinter held him tighter to prevent his escape and handed his sippie cup back to him.

“Michelangelo, you must lie still,” he said firmly.

“But daddy, I no...”

“Silence,” Splinter snapped. “No more of that. If you want to stay in here with me, then you must keep quiet and try to fall asleep. I am sorry, my son, but you need your rest.”

Mikey squirmed some more and Splinter looked down at him sternly. He then noticed the little one's eyes beginning to glaze over and his face beginning to look a paler shade of green.

“Michelangelo, what is...”

“Uhoh...” Mikey squeaked and then released the contents of his stomach all over himself and Splinter's kimono.

Splinter shook his head and sighed.

------------------
For the first time all night, Mikey sat still while he was sitting in the bathtub. Splinter began to scrub him down with a washcloth.

“I sowwy I frew up on you, daddy,” he apologized.

“No, no, my son, I should have been listening to you. I know you were trying to tell me you did not feel well,” Splinter said under his breath. “You don't seem to have a fever though. How do you feel now?”

“Otay,” Mikey replied.

Splinter sighed. “It must have been the storm then. You must have a nervous stomach.” He filled up the cup in the bathtub with water and rinsed him off.

Mikey yawned.

Splinter chuckled. “Are you tired now?”

Mikey nodded. “F-funder gone?”

“I believe it is,” Splinter said and pulled the plug, allowing the water to drain. He wrapped a towel around Mikey and pulled him from the tub. “Michelangelo, you must not be scared of a little storm. We  are safe in our home. It cannot hurt us.” He began to dry him off.

“...Uh-huh...” Mikey mumbled.

Splinter wrapped the towel around him and cradled him.

“Even if it could, you know I would not allow you or your brothers to be harmed,” he looked down at the toddler and his eyes were shut, his breathing steady. Splinter chuckled. “Oh, Michelangelo, you are the sweetest little handful.”