Grandpa’s joy by (that1hugboxer)

Your eyes have yet to open . The world around you is completely unseen. If not for mamma you would certainly be helpless. Mama snuggles and kiss you and your other siblings. She feeds you, takes care of you. Her warmth makes you feel so safe. Without warning something from the world beyond your sealed eyes begins to scream in terror and agony. You recognize the screaming it is your mama, she begs some unseen entity to spare her and her babies. A series of horrific crunches, tearing noises and wailing fill the air as your mama’s voice ceases for its final time. You hear giggles and laughter as your brothers and sisters desperately chirp for their mamma. Their frantic calls are met with silence. You chirp and peep with great distress as a deafening “BANG!” rings through the air.
The once laughing voices are now frantically pleading with the source of the bang.

“He…Hey! We were just having some fun! There’s no need to….”

A gravelly twang filled voice echoes outwards like an all consuming crack of thunder.

“Get off my property before I put you in a sulfur pit!”

You feel a wrinkly callused hand pick you up off the ground ,the smell of musk and black coffee fill your nostrils.

“I’m truly sorry little one, my old bones just weren’t fast enough.”

A female voice calls from somewhere off in the space beyond your tightly shut eyelids

“Damn it Mr Anderson! You can’t threaten people over some boi-toys!”

“ shut your mouth woman! If you’re stupid enough to believe a flesh and blood creature is a toy then that degree you have is nothing more than glorified toilet paper!”

“If you’re done spouting nonsense then get A blanket for this poor creature!”

The next bit of time is a bit hazy but you remember being wrapped in something warm and then being fed milk from a bottle.

“There there little trooper rest easy now. Grandpa will take care of you.”

You snuggle up to the nice man then let out a happy series of coos , peeps and chirps.You are so happy that you accidentally poop and pee on him.

The female voice lashes out.

“Fucking hell ! It shit everywhere the stupid bastard!”

“That’s enough!” The nice man says.

“He’s a newborn ! Of course he’s going to shit! The poor little guy can’t even see yet! Did you come out of the womb potty trained?!”

Some time passes and you finally open your eyes. The first thing you see is a very old man with leathery wrinkled skin a mixture of sun scars and golden brown hues. His head was completely balled except for large bushy white eyebrows and a 5 o clock shadow of grey stubble. His eyes were a pale green almost like sea foam. He wore a checkered shirt and denim overalls.the tops of his hands beset with patches of curly salt and pepper hair. The man smiled revealing a mouth of crooked yellow teeth.

“Hey there little buddy.”

You look up at him and tilt your head slightly to the side.

“Chirp! Chirp!”

“ oh my goodness aren’t you just precious.”

The old man strokes his stubble.

“You are going to need a name.”

A female voice scoffs. You look over and see a young woman wearing nurse scrubs . Her hair is blonde ,trimmed into a pixie cut. A pair of wire framed sunglasses with tiny round lenses rests atop her eyebrows. Her brown eyes perpetually held a poorly guised expression of flippant disinterest . A beauty mark rests just below the outer corner of her right eye. Her lips were small As was her frame both in horizontal and vertical proportions. She cracked a smile of perfectly straight radiantly white teeth.

“Call him shit nibbler.”

The old man shoots the death glare at the woman

“Pay miss MacNeil no mind little one. She hasn’t quite figured out how to dislodge the large stick from her rectum yet.”

The old man gently pets your head.

“Don’t worry little one, Grandpa has the perfect name in mind. Starting today your name will be Gael !”

You didn’t really understand the importance of someone giving you a name at the time but you snuggled up to grandpa anyway. Grandpa showered you with love and affection, much to the revulsion of miss MacNeil who time and time again told grandpa that you were just a bio toy and to stop acting like a fool. Grandpa would simply tell her that she needed to stop spouting nonsense.

Grandpa and Miss MacNeil had a strange relationship they said mean things to each other but would laugh about it afterwards. At times it was difficult to tell if Miss MacNeil actually disliked you or not. She brought you treats but in the same breath called you a Shit rat . It was very confusing for your little chirpy brain to understand. Grandpa made sure that you grew properly being neither under nor over fed.he took you everywhere from hikes to beach trips to even restaurants. Grandpa always took every precaution to keep you safe. Skettie was a rare treat that grandpa didn’t give out on a whim , but when it was given out that was a truly special occasion. Freshly made noodles with sauce made using the tomato’s and herbs grown in the garden. Cheese cut from a wheel and grated over the dish.meat balls made from fresh ground beef bought from a local butcher. Grandpa refused to buy kibble instead making bowls of fresh vegetables topped with shredded chicken for your meals. It was “unnecessary work”according to miss MacNeil, grandpa would simply shake his head and tell her that there was more to having a pet than simply giving it processed food for every meal. “If you’r not willing to do right by your animal companion then you may as well not have them in the first place.”

Miss MacNeil was exceptionally amused by that answer.

“That’s rich coming from an old doe-boy !”

Grandpa for the first time you could remember didn’t laugh but instead grew unnervingly quiet .

“H…Hey?” Miss MacNeil said shakily.

“Are you going to be ok?”

Grandpa didn’t answer and simply gave you your food which you happily ate.After finishing your food you used the litter box then prance over to grandpa with a series of peeps and coos . He picks you up and kisses your forehead.
You slowly but surely begin talking over the next few week And assuming grandpa questions.

“Why miss MacNeiw nu wike Gaew?”

“Oh Gael she likes you a lot, she just has a difficult time saying it.”

You decide to be as nice as possible to Miss MacNeil maybe then she would be less grouchy. You found that she was happiest not when you offered her hugs or toys but when you simply stayed quiet and out of her way. It was hard for you to understand why that was the case but if that’s what made her happy you would be quiet and out of sight.miss MacNeil still wasn’t the most verbally affectionate person but she started calling you by your name instead of shit rat. She still brought you treats from time to time and you always made sure to say thank you. there were times you got a little over excited trying to hug her when she was helping grandpa. She still got mad when this happened but she was not as mad as she used to get.

Eventually after many bright times of staying quiet and out of her way, something happened, Miss MacNeil pet your head and called you a good fluffy. You were so happy! after all miss MacNeil was the closest thing you had to a mama.as more and more bright times passed you had a strange feeling in your nu nu stick and wumps . You decided rather sheepishly to tell grandpa about it. Grandpa just laughed saying “it’s nothing to be ashamed of Gael. You are simply growing up!”

Miss MacNeil suggested having your wumps removed but grandpa would have none of it . “We will simply get him a wife . I have more than enough room for the two of them and some babies.”

The lady at fluffmart suggested an enfie pal as a better alternative.confused grandpa asked her to explain which she did.

“What the actual hell is wrong with people!!!”Grandpa said his clenched fists literally shaking with rage. “No! Absolutely not! That’s some shit the Huns would do!”
The lady not knowing how to respond simply stared at grandpa. The store was deafly quiet as all eyes were now on him and Miss MacNeil. Grandpa ignored their stares and asked you to pick out a special friend. There were lots of choices but one in particular caught your eye, a pale yellow mare with a dark brown mane. She was about a year older than you . The lady at the store was confused by your choice. “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice colorful young mare?”
You double down on your choice. “Gaew wan dat mawe .”

Grandpa laughed. “He’s into older dames, just like I was at his age!”

On the way home you comfort your special friend who has never ridden in a car before. “It ok speciaw fwiend woomy munsta nu huwtchu”. You gently hold her steady by snuggling up next to her in the car she seemed to calm down, slowly drifting off to sleep next to you. Rhiannon was the name grandpa had chosen for your special friend. Neither you nor Rhiannon knew what it meant but it sounded nice. When you got home grandpa sat both you and Rhiannon on the floor and explained the rules.

“Alright you two lovebirds I need you both to listen very carefully.
Grandpa explained that while all of you were at fluffmart he had his old office converted into a safe room. Once Rhiannon became soon mamma you would have to watch over her . When she had her babies Rhiannon and yourself would have to keep them safe and fed. “I was informed by Miss MacNeil that sometimes fluffies are unkind to their babies if they don’t like how they look . No matter how your babies look you will take care of them! If I find even one baby starved either for love or milk , I will make sure the one responsible will never be able to have babies again! Is that understood!?”

You and Rhiannon understand perfectly. The safe room was great. Filled with toys, soft things, a water, food bowl and family sized litter box.
There was a special portion dedicated to “splorin” for babies. There was solid gate lacking any holes or other such places babies could get stuck or hurt in. The litter box was flush to the floor to prevent accidental falls by the babies. The toys were foam so that the babies wouldn’t hurt themselves bumping into them while their eyes were still closed. The water and food bowls were so shallow that even a chirpy couldn’t drown in them. Grandpa had truly thought of everything. The only thing missing now was the babies.

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I like this, might need some more spelling passes for stuff like “boi” toy and “hans.” Also there aren’t any American WWI veterans still alive in real life, but this is a story.

Fair enough

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Super grandpa!!!

I swear during history class we were shown a series of propaganda posters referring to Germans as Hans.

I think “Hans” in that context was more, like, a stereotypical name for an individual, like you might call a guy you don’t know “Jack.” So it was more like “Hans wants to kill you! DON’T LET HIM”, less like “The Hans are taking over!” if that makes sense.

Thanks for the info

It’s this. German soldiers might be referred to as “The Hun” or “Huns” to make you think of the barbarous Atilla the Hun. German soldiers individually or as an example might be “Hans” since that’s a common name.

Interesting stuff. But “Hans” is still a singular name - for a group, it’s “the Huns.”

True, though I thought “Huns” was more of a WWI name than WWII/generally speaking, but I fully admit I could be wrong about that.

You are correct I was simply misremembering