Noah (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sweven) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} genome_project,@ 2012-07-31 02:07:00 |
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Where: The Riley apartment in Queens
When: backdated to a few weeks after the accident!
What: babysitting/being afraid
Rating: low/swears.
His fucking foot hurt. It had been run over by a car, yes, but the fact that it still pained him was beyond irritating to Noah. It should be done by now. It should be healed. Honestly, he wasn't used to being off his feet for any stretch of time and he was finding it maddening. And, of course, the girl had to smash his foot just as school let out, leaving the man practically chair-bound while his children (and wife) frolicked around him, sunlight streaming through the windows. He could hobble around, but he was by no means up to the task of taking the girls to the park or letting them sit on his feet as he walked around the apartment, lifting his feet high so they'd giggle and squeal. The whole thing was just stupid.
What was even worse, however, was that today, after nearly two weeks of Noah complaining, Laney had finally decided to take his words to heart and had called in Joe, their babysitter, to "help." She had called in the fucking babysitter to sit with the babies and Noah. He probably should've been grateful to have the help, but Noah never was one to comply to people's perceptions of reasonable reactions to things. Instead, he was annoyed.
After Laney left for work, stubbornly ignoring her husband's repeated 'you have got to be fucking kidding me's, Noah was left waiting for the dumb kid to show up. He sighed as he sat in the armchair he had grown to hate. The girls were still asleep in their room. Robin, the sole early-riser of the household, was at Eleanor's for the summer, leaving Noah with a good deal of alone time that he enjoyed. Normally, he would have spent it reading, but today found he was too distracted by his general annoyance to focus enough to do so. He'd tried, but ended up just tossing the book to the floor in frustration after re-reading the same paragraph nearly ten times.
In his and Laney's bedroom, the only place he was allowed to smoke indoors, Noah lit a cigarette and took a long drag. He closed his eyes, sitting on the edge of the soft mattress, and let the smoke tendrils rise from his nostrils briefly, before exhaling forcefully. He had just started to feel calmer when the buzzer rang.