Well that certainly explained the noise, Hypnos decided, as he watched with heavy-lidded eyes. It wasn't just the crashing of the block wall, it was the gleeful and mildly demented laughter that was reverberating down the hall. Coming out of this particular son, it wasn't all that surprising, he supposed. And there was something very pleasing about seeing his child so happy. That that happiness came from destruction was irrelevant in Hypnos' opinion. Besides, there was some creation involved as well. It was quite a creative venture, all things considered.
There was a lazy sort of smile on his face, a bit lopsided as one side of his mouth twitched higher than the other. He should call Pasithea, so that she could see how clever their son was. But she might be upset at the mess that was being created. Hypnos didn't particularly care. It was what their rooms were for, wasn't it?
When his son stomped about, picking up his blocks, the smile just grew wider and he waited for Phobetor to notice him. It was always interesting to see just what children did when they figured out they were being observed. Sometimes they acted as though they were certain they were getting in trouble, though that happened infrequently with Hypnos. He was not the disciplinarian in the family. Sometimes they froze, as though they weren't certain they were allowed to continue doing whatever it was they'd been doing if a grown up were viewing the results. Phobetor did neither of those, but deep down, Hyp hadn't anticipated that he would. This one was truly a free spirit.
He could not, though, have predicted the level of enthusiasm with which he was greeted. It was not surprising, just not entirely expected. Always welcome, however. Always. That his son loved him meant more to Hypnos than he could express in words, and the emotion was returned fully. He adored his children. Even when they bonked him in the side of the head with a wooden block they forgot they were holding in their rush to hug his face. Why Phobetor was hugging his face in particular, Hyp didn't know. Didn't really care, any more than he cared about the mild throbbing at the back of his head from being struck with a weapon shaped like a toy. His son was happy to see him, and that's all that mattered.
His hand came up to steady the child on his shoulder, settling gently on one little thigh. How somebody so small could create so much noise, and so much destruction, was a wonder. It must come from Pasithea's side of the family. Hyp said that rather frequently about a number of their children, though it didn't mean he loved any of them any less, since he adored everything about his wife. Assured that his son would not tumble off his shoulder, unless Phobetor wished to do so, Hypnos finally addressed him.
“What are you doing, Fuzzy?” This particular child, with his particular talents for mimicking various animals, had earned the nickname bestowed upon him. Especially when he was near his mother and attempting to be too adorable to get in trouble for whatever he'd done recently.