Dennis is in labour with his second baby. It fucking sucks, it’s late at night, he’s exhausted and hungry and misses his other baby, but, judging by his contractions and the pain level compared to (what he remembers from) last time, he’s still got a while to go.
And Robby is so sweet, better prepared than he was nearly three years ago. He’s brought books and crosswords, reading aloud and asking Dennis for answers to the puzzle, try to distract him from the pain as much as possible.
Unfortunately, Dennis has another distraction currently deployed, and it wasn’t even intentional. Having a toddler means a lot of tv programmes for little kids. The two of them are old school with what they show their kid - nothing modern and overstimulating - largely relying on dvds of old tv shows from their childhoods. He’s probably seen more 90s and early 2000 programmes now than he did when he was a kid himself.
Which leads him to now, lying in a hospital bed, his amazing partner doing the best he can to help him through the pain, and all he thats running through his head is one of those cute little theme songs for the old tv shows from their kid loves.
And it’s fucking working!













