CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xiii
(By NeuroFabulous)
Chip and Sandy hovered
at the edge of the room,
their eyes wide with curiosity.
"What happens when you
have your wisdom teeth out?"
Chip asked, his voice a soft
whisper.
Sandy shrugged, her own
interest piqued. "They take
them out so they don't hurt
you," she said, her voice
thoughtful. "But I don't know
what it's like."
Karen's eyes remained on
Plankton's face, her
thumb tracing gentle circles
on his palm. "It's not
always easy," she murmured.
"Especially for someone like
him." Her gaze flickered
to Chip, her expression
serious. "Remember, buddy,
everyone experiences things
differently. We have to be
patient and understand."
Chip nodded, his gaze
never leaving Plankton's
sleeping form. He was
fascinated by his dad's
autism, the way it made him
see the world so uniquely.
He was eager to learn more, to
be there for him in ways
he never knew were needed.
Sandy sat beside them,
her eyes on the chessboard,
lost in thought. "I've heard
of autism before," she said,
her voice barely above a
whisper. "But I didn't know
it could affect Plankton."
Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving her husband's
face. "It's part of who he
is," she murmured. "It's
not always easy, but it's
what makes him special."
Her gaze softened as she
looked at Chip. "And it's
important we learn to support
each other, especially when
things are tough." Karen
stands up, getting vanilla ice
cream from the freezer.
With a spoon in hand, she
wakes Plankton up gently, her
touch featherlight on his
shoulder. "Hey," she whispers,
her voice a gentle nudge.
"You need to wake up for
a moment."
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his sleepy eye opening to
find Karen's smiling face. "Wha?"
he mumbles, the gauze in his
mouth making his words
indistinct.
"Ice cream," she whispers, holding
up the bowl. His eyes widen
slightly, the mention of the cold,
soothing treat cutting through the
haze of his anesthesia-induced
sleep. "For the swelling," she
reminds him gently, her voice
a soft caress. "Let's get rid of
the gauze first.."
With trembling hands, Plankton
reaches for the gauze in his
mouth, his antennae quivering
slightly. Karen's hand guides
his, her touch a gentle
reminder of her presence. He
pulls it out with a grimace,
his mouth feeling strange
without the pressure. The formerly
white gauze is stained pink.
Karen takes it from him, her
movements swift and efficient.
"Here," she says, her voice a soft
whisper. "Let's get you some ice
cream." She brings the spoon
to his mouth.
Plankton's eye widens. He
opens his mouth, his antennae
drooping with exhaustion.
He makes a contented noise,
his antennae twitching slightly.
"Mmm," he murmurs, his voice
barely a whisper.
Karen feeds him
another spoonful
when his antennae perk up
slightly, his sleepy gaze
locking on hers. "It's okay,"
she soothes, her voice a gentle
whisper. "You can eat."
"Mmph," he mumbles.
The coldness of the ice
cream is a shock to his
sensitive mouth, but the
sweetness soon overpowers
the discomfort. His antennae
twitch with each spoonful,
his eye slowly focusing.
"Manilla cweam," he murmurs, the
words barely coherent. Karen
smiles, her eyes shining with
relief.
He takes another
bite, the creaminess
of the ice cream
coating his tongue.
"Mmph," he sighs, his
antennae drooping
with contentment.
Karen chuckles
softly, her hand steady
as she feeds him.
Chip watches
as Plankton's
eyelid flutters.
"He's really tired,
huh?" he says, his voice
small. Sandy nods,
a knowing smile
on her face. "Yeah, but
the ice cream will help
with the swelling,"
she assures him.
Karen nods, her
movements careful as
she feeds Plankton another
spoonful. "It's important
to stay ahead of the pain,"
she whispers. "And I
think he enjoys it too."
Her eyes sparkle with
mirth, the tension of
the day briefly forgotten
as they watch Plankton's
sleepy indulgence.
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye half-lidded as he savors
the ice cream. The sweetness
of the vanilla is a soothing
contrast to the metallic
tang of his mouth, the coldness
a gentle reprieve from
the surgery.
Each spoonful is a battle
against his need for sleep,
his body demanding rest
while his taste buds revel in
the creamy delight. Karen's
hands are gentle, her touch
steady as she feeds him, her eyes
always on his face, watching
for any signs of pain or distress.
Chip sits beside them, his eyes
widening with every spoonful.
"Dad's really out of it, isn't
he?" he whispers to Sandy.
Karen nods, her smile soft.
"The anesthesia can do that,"
she says. "But the ice cream
will help with the swelling."
Plankton's antennae twitch as
his eyes struggle to stay
open, the weight of sleep
crushing down on him. Each
spoonful of ice cream is a
tiny victory, a brief reprieve
from the siren's call of his bed.
He mumbles something incoherent,
his antennae drooping. "What
was that?" Karen asks, leaning
closer to hear him better.
"M'tired," he manages, his voice
slurred. Chip giggles softly
at his father's sleepy state,
his own energy a stark
contrast to the slumber that
threatens to consume Plankton.
"You can sleep soon," Karen
soothes, her voice a gentle
reminder. "But let's fi-"
But Plankton's antennae
droop, his eye slipping
closed once more. His snores
fill the quiet room, a
comforting rhythm that speaks
of his deep rest. Karen
sighs, her hand pausing mid-air
with the spoon of ice cream.
"C'mon, Plank..."
He stirs slightly, his antennae
twitching. "Mmh?" he mumbles, his voice
a sleepy whisper. Karen's smile
is patient, her love for him
shining through her eyes. "Just a
little more," she coaxes, her voice
gentle. "For the swelling." She
helps him sit up straighter.
The coldness of the ice cream
is a jolt to his senses, his
eye opening wider. He nods,
his antennae perking up slightly.
"Okay," he murmurs, his voice
still thick with sleep.
Karen continues to feed
him, her movements slow and
deliberate. Each spoonful is
a battle won, his eyelid
fighting to stay open. "You're
doing great," she whispers,
her thumb brushing his hand.
Sandy and Chip watch
Plankton's struggle.
Chip's eyes are wide, taking
in every detail.
Karen's hand is a
steady presence.
But Plankton's body fights
back, each spoonful a
challenge to stay awake.
He takes a deep breath, his
antennas fluttering as he tries
to focus on the taste of the
vanilla ice cream. "M'okay,"
he murmurs, his voice barely
above a whisper. But his eyelid
droops, the weight of sleep
too much to resist.
Karen's eyes fill with
determination. She'll get him
through this. She feeds him
another spoonful, her voice
a gentle chant. "Keep going,
Plankton. You can do it."
His antennae quiver slightly
as he tastes the ice cream,
his eye blinking slowly. "M'tryin',"
he whispers, the words
almost lost.
Karen's voice is a soft
mantra, her words a gentle
push to keep him conscious.
"Just a little more," she
coaxes, her hand steady as
she brings the spoon to
his lips.
Plankton's antennae twitch, his
eye sliding closed again. "Mmph,"
he protests, his voice a sleepy
mumble. The coldness of the
ice cream is a jolt to his
sluggish system, his body
instinctively swallowing.
Karen's voice is a gentle
coax, her touch a comforting
presence. "You can do it,"
she whispers, her eyes filled with
love and determination. "Just
a few more bites."
But Plankton's body has
other plans. His antennae
twitch with each spoonful,
his eyelid a battleground between
staying awake and giving in
to sleep. "Mmh," he murmurs,
his voice barely audible. "Tired."
Karen's eyes never leave
his face, her smile filled with
compassion. "I know, Plankton,"
she whispers. "But we need
to finish this." She holds the
spoon to his mouth, her eyes
filled with understanding.
Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his eye opening with
difficulty. "Mmh?" he mumbles,
his voice a sleepy echo of his
exhaustion.
Karen's voice is a gentle
reminder. "Just a little
more, sweetie," she says, her
tone filled with love and
concern. She holds the spoon
to his mouth again, her
expression a silent plea for
his cooperation.
Plankton's antennae wobble, his
eye barely open. He takes
another bite, his antennae
drooping with each spoonful.
"Almost done," she whispers, her
hands steady. "You're doing
so well."
He nods slightly, his antennae
twitching with the effort to
stay awake. "Mmph," he mumbles,
his voice a sleepy grumble. The
ice cream is a sweet torment,
his mouth watering with each
tiny bite. "M'tired," he whispers,
his antennae quivering.
Karen's eyes are soft with
understanding. She knows
the struggle of his autistic
brain to process the world,
even in sleep. "Just a little
more," she soothes, her voice a
whispered promise of rest. She
feeds him another spoonful,
his eye fluttering shut again.
The sweetness of the vanilla
ice cream is a siren's call to
his senses, briefly keeping
his consciousness afloat. "Mm,"
he murmurs, his antennae
twitching slightly. The coldness
of the treat is a stark contrast
to the warmth of his sleepiness.
Karen's voice is a gentle
guiding light, her words a
soothing melody to his sluggish
mind. "You're doing great,"
she whispers, her smile a soft
ray of comfort in the dimly
lit room. "Al-"
But Plankton's antennae
droop, his eye slipping
closed once more. His snores
return, deep and rhythmic.
Karen sighs, her eyes
soft with love. "Okay," she
whispers, setting the spoon
aside. "You've had enough."
Her voice is a gentle
goodbye to the waking world
as she helps him lie down,
his body a deadweight against
the couch cushions.