Don’t Take Life Too Seriously; You Might be Running a Daycare

"Lord Horskel, good to see you," Conroy greeted the latest visitor. "Lord Mikson and Tramulus have already arrived. We are still waiting on Lord Norboro and his wife."

"His wife is coming?" Horskel asked, a man in immaculate finery.

"Of course. We all know who wears the pants in the house."

"True enough, though I would think Lord Norboro would at least try to maintain the guise of authority."

"I'm sure he would, but he isn't the one making the calls." They both shared a laugh.

I watched the initial gathering of heads of noble houses in the grand foyer. From what I could tell, Uvald was definitely top dog, at least among the assembled. By way of greeting, both Mikson and Tramulus offered topics for discussion, bypassing the standard small talk. More laid back, Horskel, wearing the full formal ensemble: black suit with tan waistcoat, red tie, white gloves, top hat, even a cane and monocle, offered a joke as he sauntered over. With his portly build, he was just one mustache away from being the spitting image of the Monopoly man.

Meanwhile, Amillia occupied herself with nagging her mother; Valarina seemed unannoyed, though. "But why can't I join the party?" whined Amillia as she balled her fists, but otherwise withheld her tantrum, to her credit.

"Because it's not a party," Valarina said with the composure of one who hadn't been besieged by the pleadings of her 10-year-old daughter for the better part of an hour. "It's an important business meeting, serious stuff. Adults only." She adapted a stern and serious expression that looked out of place on her insouciant face. If you asked me, I wouldn't have put any weight on it.

"But why is there tea and other refreshments then?" came Amillia's counterargument, delivered through a childish frown.

"Because it is polite. Trust me, Amillia, important business meetings are no fun." She spoke as if offering advice to a friend. A less mature friend, for certain, but it lacked the haughtiness you would expect from a mother laying down the law.

"But you are going!"

"I know..." She sighed, slouching. "But it is a wife's duty to serve refreshments! I can't help with most things, but I can do this!" She straightened, and her fist came up in a heroic pose with a look of determination.

"I can serve refreshments!" Amillia piped up, hopeful.

Valarina gave her a warm, conciliatory smile. "Maybe when you are older," she said, patting her on the shoulder. Amillia could only turn her head away and pout.

"She can have my place," came a nasally voice, and my palms began perspiring, until I remembered I was off the clock, so to speak. "I'll even lend her my goggles and coat." For a moment, Amillia's face turned beatific.

"Now, now, Linglangbololangfalomerefensis," Conroy said, actually using his full name—impressive. "Your presence is indispensable. It is no exaggeration to say you will be the most important attendee." Amillia deflated like a popped balloon as Conroy crossed the foyer, leaving the other attendees to converse amongst each other.

"As indispensable as the other project you have me working on?"

"It's only one evening. Surely it isn't much of an inconvenience."

"Not so much an inconvenience as an annoyance." It jarred me at just how unfiltered Linglang spoke to Conroy. It appeared his social position didn't earn him any special regard.

"We appreciate your consideration," he said with a hand to his chest and a slight bow. Linglang grumbled but said nothing more.

"My lord, the Norboros have arrived," Igot announced.

"Excellent. We shall begin the meeting shortly," he said, wandering off to greet the last attendee. Valarina and Linglang began to work their way to the meeting room, leaving me with Amillia, whose bottom lip was on prominent display.

"Come on, Olavir." She huffed, turning and grabbing my sleeve. "We will have our own party." I grimaced. Can’t a guy get a break?

The sound of laughter cut through the foyer, derailing my ruminations. "You brought your children?" Conroy said, taken aback.

"Of course! I can't just leave them without their mother," came the imperious voice of a woman.

"Even the newborn?" I couldn’t see the exchange from across the room, but I could hear Conroy's dismay. For some reason, that brightened my day, just a little.

"Especially the newborn!"

"My apologies," a sycophantic male voice joined the fray. "Rinda can't bear to have the children separated from their mother. You understand, right?" Conroy rubbed his temples, with no recourse. A small toothy grin slipped out over my face.

Amillia started up one of her trademark tea parties in a back drawing room, scowl still plastered to her face, determined to outperform the "party" happening without her. As usual, only Amillia, Tissa, and I were in attendance. And as usual, Tissa laid herself out on a sofa, trashy romance novel in hand. Apparently, Amillia found this acceptable, whereas my similar behavior would be swiftly called out.

However, due to her attempted one-upmanship, she had pulled out all the stops, including chocolates among the refreshments. Given the circumstances, she certainly wouldn't turn me down for the chocolate delectation. In fact, she would probably insist. Yes sir, today was the day I would finally end my long-standing sidequest. I could feel the saliva pooling in my mouth in anticipation.

"Timerthy!" came a shout. "Come back here!"

"Johnry!" followed a youthful cry. "Run for it! Don't let the witch catch you!" What the heck was going on?

"No, Johnry, you stay here!" That voice sounded like... Footsteps approached, and I soon heard a baby crying.

"But what about Gabby?!" Another youthful voice.

"The witch has her! We can't save her!" The noise grew louder and more invasive. Even Amillia's grievances were forgotten.

Amillia and Tissa looked at each other, bewildered. Curiosity killed the cat, and I was at least half cat. So naturally, I took charge and went to investigate, hopefully not dying; they soon followed. I opened the heavy wooden door just in time to see a young child—maybe 5—run past, with another child following soon after. All the while, that crying grew louder and clearer as it echoed through the wide halls.

"You two, stop!" I knew the voice, and as she turned the corner, Sistilla's image came into view, half running in the direction of the fleeing children. It would be surprising if she couldn't outrun two stubby-legged children, but she appeared to be cradling something in her arms. A baby, if the crying was any indicator.

"Sistilla! What is going on?" Tissa asked, flustered.

"Those two. I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on them, but they ran away after first setting eyes on me." While not out of breath, her face was flushed. "They are Lady Norboro's children."

"Oh dear..." Tissa covered her mouth. The infant continued to scream, but that didn't seem to have precedence right now.

"I'll go after them," I said and took off. They were about the same height as me, but I was certain I was faster—I had undergone extensive training after all. It felt good to cut loose and go full steam, I didn't often have much excuse to do so these days...

The cries faded as I followed their unmasked footfalls, passing portraits, paintings, and various other display pieces. For some reason, I expected a more stealthy quarry, but they were just the children of nobles. I followed them to one of those "museum" rooms, which existed only to display various items. This one seemed dedicated to hunting trophies.

The room appeared empty upon first inspection, but I was certain they were hiding amidst the fur and scale-clad trophies of snarling beasts. I flicked my ears this way and that—we did have good hearing, though I probably would have heard their heavy breathing regardless. I found the first one hiding under what appeared to be an angry king penguin.

"Found you," I said, glancing behind the large bird. The kid nearly jumped out of his skin. Even with these debuffing shoes, I could still be sneaky.

"AH! The witch—" He paused. "You're not the witch..."

"What are you talking—" He yanked me down alongside him.

"Shhh." The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. "She will hear you." Was this some kind of game? Looking over, I saw his brother curled up under a giant bear, looking like a discarded turd.

"This is ridiculous." I grabbed the child. "Sistilla! They are in here!"

"What are you doing! The witch!" He struggled to get free, but shame be upon me if I couldn't restrain a single 5-year-old. She burst into the room almost as soon as I called out. His brother, though confused, tried to make a run for it, but Sistilla, with liberated hands, snatched him with ease.

"NOOO!" The boy cried as he struggled against my grip. "She got us! She is going to make us into her stew!"

"I'm not a witch!" Sistilla refuted, a thick crease forming on her forehead. By the way he wriggled, you would think he actually believed it.

"Why do you think Sistilla is a witch?" I asked.

"She is so ugly! And scary looking!" A sour twist crossed my lips. I looked at Sistilla. Ugly? Scary? I guess scary was subjective, but ugly? Her face was more or less symmetrical, youthful—I didn't think she was even 20 years old—and more on the pleasant side than not. Sistilla pulled in her lips.

"That's a mean thing to say," I said as he continued twisting in my hands, the fight fading; his brother had already stopped resisting. "Why do you say she is ugly?"

"Because she is a witch!" Circular logic, forgivable in a kid... Perhaps.

"So what makes a witch ugly?" He stopped struggling and stared blankly.

"Umm..." It seems he hadn't considered it. It was best to engage the reasoning part of the brain in such situations. "Big nose, warts, saggy skin..."

"Very good," I directed his attention to Sistilla. "Does Sistilla have any of those?" He looked.

"...No," he admitted.

"Then that means she isn't a witch."

"She is a witch!" he reasserted. I sighed. Far be it for a child to see reason.

"I am not a witch! What have I done to make you think that?"

"You tried to make us into your stew..." The other child said with a sniffle.

"What!? When!?"

"When you tricked that other lady into letting you watch us."

"That is ridiculous!" Sistilla's face continued to grow redder.

"Oh no, Johnry!” The boy reached out a stubby arm. “Don't harm my brother!"

I massaged my brows. This was going nowhere. Time to try a different tactic. "Well, we have caught you, but if you behave yourselves, maybe we will keep you around. Only misbehaving children get made into stew."

They both looked at each other, and whatever strange kid logic they operated under seemed to accept my reprieve, allowing us to escort them back to the drawing room. Once inside, Sistill closed the door. This act clearly made them nervous, but seeing others in the room eased their anxiety.

"What was that all about?" Tissa asked, rocking the now silent infant in her arms.

"I don't even know..." Sistilla raised an exasperated hand to her head.

The two children crowded around Amillia. "Did she capture you, too?"

"...Huh." Her 'O'-shaped mouth expressed complete confusion.

"Amillia, I found some more people for your tea party," I said, in the hope she would keep those two otherwise occupied. She lit up with the suggestion and dragged them away to her protest party.

Seeing as sanity seemed to have emerged, Sistilla let out a sigh. "What a handful... I never expected them to cause me this much trouble." Tissa continued rocking the infant. "I'm glad to see you got Gabbica to stop crying."

"Yeah, she calmed down right after you handed her off and ran after those two. Must have been all the commotion." I couldn't help but notice Tissa looking over her shoulder at an open book.

"Sorry, Tissa. I'll take her now." She went to hand her over, but just as Sistilla's hands hovered under her, the baby started screaming again, recapturing the two boys' attention.

"Hey! Don't take our sister!" One of them called out. Tissa reflexively pulled the child away, and Gabbica stopped crying immediately.

"Don't worry," I reassured. "I won't let Sistilla do anything. There aren't any pots in here anyway." This earned me a sharp stare from Sistilla, but ameliorated the boys' attitudes.

For whatever reason, it seemed this baby did not like Sistilla. She could just be fussy, though. I guess some experimenting was in order.

"Hey, let me take her for a bit." Tissa shrugged and handed her over. I was no expert on children, but I would say this girl was no more than 4 months old, and she continued to sleep easily in my arms. "Hmm..."

"Is something wrong?" Sistilla asked, looking sour that I, too, had no problems holding her.

"No... I had an idea." I walked over to Amillia, who watched the engagement along with the two brothers. They wore narrowed eyes, but the hiscups they munched on kept them pacified. "Amillia, have you held a baby before?"

"No..." She said with a finger to the corner of her mouth.

"Would you like to?"

"Yes!" Always the simple things with Amillia. I passed the child off to her.

"Now be careful. Make sure to support the head." I knew that much at least. To her credit, she took extra care once Gabbica was in arm. I was surprised to find a nurturing smile on Amillia as she cooed to the child. The baby seemed perfectly content. I guess Amillia wasn't hopeless.

Looking back across the room, Sistilla had crossed her arms, now looking like she had bitten into a lemon. Still, one last thing I wanted to test.

"She really seems to like you, Amillia, but I think you need to attend to your guest. They seem to be getting antsy." I did my best to present an amiable front, since this situation was like handling nitroglycerin, and we didn't need a repeat of what happened earlier. "I'll take her for you." I held out my arms, and she groaned as she relinquished the girl.

So, we had verified that the infant was perfectly content with Tissa, Amillia, and even me; although, as an adorable anthropomorphic fox/cat-like creature, maybe that was to be expected. Still, the thing with Sistilla might only be a fluke. I walked back over to the two ladies. Now we will find out. I got up right next to Sistilla as she eyed me.

"Okay, I'm going to hand her over nice and slowly. No sudden movements." She nodded as if we were about to sneak into an enemy encampment. I slowly lifted her up to Sistilla, keeping a close eye on the girl the whole time. Just as the hand off was about to happen...

The girl screamed. It lasted for only a moment, and she went back into angel mode as soon as Sistilla jerked away, almost as if she were some kind of Sistilla proximity detector.

"Hmmmm..." This child did not like Sistilla, it seemed. "Tissa, could you stand next to Sistilla?"

"Umm... Okay," she huffed as she put her novel down and strolled up next to her. I handed the child to her. No issue. I took her back and offered her to Sistilla. Loud cry. As she pulled back, silence.

"Hmmmmmm..." I extended my arms to Tissa, and as she reached out, I shifted to Sistilla. Ear-piercing scream.

"What are you doing to our sister!?"

"I am protecting her from the witch. Don't worry, you have my word on it." They really went to town on the hiscups. Good thing too, or this would be much more difficult.

"Okay, just one more thing." I covered her eyes with just a bit of the blanket she was wrapped in and stretched out to Sistilla one last time, inch by inch, like setting the last piece of a ship in the bottle. Sistilla, in turn, reached out as if trying to swipe the crown jewels. We were almost there. I think we were going to make it...

It was not to be. I let out a sigh.

"I don't know, Sistilla, this child does not like you... Now that I think about it, none of them do." My finger rubbed at my temple. "Do children not like you?" Sistilla no longer looked sour, just defeated.

"I can't right say. I don't meet many children."

"What about children out and about?"

"Can't say I run into many of them either. In fact..." She retired her defeated and put on a thoughtful expression. "I can't remember the last time I ran into children while in the city..."

"But you have certainly seen them around?"

"I think I might have seen some at a distance..." The hamster wheel spun full-bore..

"Really? I would think there would be small children everywhere, but I guess it isn't important." I bounced the girl in my arms a little as she stirred.

"Sorry to hand this task off to all of you, as I was the one who took it on," She said, shoulders slumping.

"It was no trouble, Lady Sistilla," Tissa said, her nose returned to the novel. Now that things had settled, I found myself continuing to care for the young lady of House Norboro, with Sistilla’s reluctant blessing.

"Olavir. How did you get so good with children?" Sistilla's question jarred me. I didn't consider myself good with children.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it was you who got the children to settle down, and little Gabbica really likes you."

"Well, she seems to be comfortable with everyone..." A flush rose to my ears as I looked up. "Well... Almost everyone," I added and then looked away. "As for the other two, that is just basic household stuff."

"So I can't even run a household..." She deflated at my every utterance.

"I didn't mean it like that!" My palms began sweating again as I tried to lift the mood. "There are plenty of other things to running a household: cooking, cleaning, small repairs—"

"Did you say cooking??" She jumped up.

"Umm... Yes?"

"So you can cook??" Her eyes grew wider.

"...As well as the next guy. I wouldn't say I'm a chef of anything, but I can make simple things. Perhaps something more complex with a recipe—"

"Can you teach me??" She cut in again, with a fire in her amber eyes.

"Uh... Why me? Surely, there are more qualified people here to learn from." She looked away, crestfallen as she picked at her belt.

"They won't teach me..."

"They won't? Aren't you kind of like... In charge?" She just continued tugging at her sleeve. I was hesitant, already having a lot more on my plate than I had ever anticipated, what with Amillia, and recently Linglang, not to mention all the other errands that had become expected of me from the servants. But still, looking at her despondent figure, fidgeting with various articles of clothing, a nagging sense of pity overcame me.

"...Okay, I don't really know anything special, but if you are starting from zero, I suppose there is something I can teach you."

She turned back, hope returning to her eyes; a fire rekindled. "You will?"

"Um, sure."

"Thank you!" She went to grab my hand, but the baby started crying again. "Oh... Woops." An embarrassed laugh followed. "But this is great! I will send for you tomorrow!"

"Wait! I'm not sure I will have..." But she was no longer listening. Instead, she hummed a happy tune to herself as she sharpened arrowheads. I threw a harsh look in her direction, not that she noticed. Was working with sharp objects really the best idea? I had no doubt those kids would flip out if they saw her with weapons in hand. Speaking of which, they had been very well behaved. I had to give props to Amillia.

"Wow, that was really good, Amillia!"

"Yeah, mother never lets us have chocolate. Say it makes us too ‘unruly,’ whatever that means..."

I felt the weight of realization slam against my chest and knock the wind out of me. I had completely forgotten about the chocolate with all the excitement. But maybe it wasn't too late.

"Sorry, Olavir, I only had two pieces..." To her credit, remorse showed in her eyes, but still! I had yet again missed my chance. I had to walk away as I muttered curses under my breath. Perhaps I should have been proud that she too forwent her serving in service to her guest. And perhaps someday, I would.