28

                                    

                                          
Peter's POV
                          
"Arthur, thank you so much for taking care of Peter today! Berwald and I will be back by 5, call us if you need anything," Mummy said happily, handing a small bag to Mr. Kirkland-Jones before turning to me. "Now Peter, be good for them while we're gone," he said, crouching down to hug and kiss me goodbye. "Ok Mummy, bye," I said, leaving a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He giggled and walked away, waving before getting in the car and having Papa drive away.
                          
"So Peter, what would you like to do first?" the weird British man asked. He smiled down at me, his eyes looking squinted like Uncle Leon's as he did. "Why are your eyebrows so bushy? Why are mine bushy? Your eyes look little, like Uncle Leon's. Don't you have a kid? Are they my age? I want fruit snacks. Gummies are great. Where's Alfred? Uncle Emil said he's the fun one. Is he with your kid? Can we watch a movie? I want to color. I want to be a giant robot. I want to be a country when I grow up," I rambled, Arthur looking confused at my burst of questions and statements. "W-Well uh... I got my eyebrows from my parents, same with yours. I used to babysit Leon as well, his eyes aren't that small, Jett is with Alfred for now, he's seven, fruit snacks and gummies are bad for your health, Emil isn't to be trusted, yes we can watch a movie, and you can color as well. As for being a giant robot and a country, good luck," he reached down and ruffled my hair, making it even messier than it already was.
                          
"Can we watch a movie now? I want to watch Harry Potter," I said, skipping happily after Arthur as he walked away. "Aren't you a little too young to watch these movies?" He asked, a large eyebrow raised at me. "Mummy said it was all right with him," I told him, jumping onto the couch and plopping my butt down. "I guess you can watch them then...," he trailed off, shaking his head and putting the movie in.
                          
We watched the first three movies in peace, the only distraction being Arthur when he tried to cover my eyes every once in a while. In the beginning of the fourth movie, there was a loud bang as the front door was blown open, a large golden lab bouncing inside. It ran full speed at the couch, jumping onto Arthur as he curled into a protective ball. "Down Mickey, down!" Arthur shouted, reaching a hand out to push at the excited dog. He shrieked as Mickey licked his face, scrambling off the couch and hiding in a different room. Mickey was about to follow him but was cut off by a loud voice.
                          
"Yo, Mickey. Calm down little dude. We have a guest," the man said, one hand holding a large bag while the other held onto a little boy's hand, "I'm Alfred, this is Jett. You already met Mickey. His name is actually McDonald's but Iggy wouldn't let me call him that, so it's Mickey for short."
                          
The small boy ran over to me, his pale green eyes shining with excitement that rivals Mickey's. His eyebrows were bushy like mine and Arthur's, though his hair was dark brown. "Hi! I'm Jett! 's nice to meet ya!" Jett shouted, his accent throwing me off. "You sound funny," I told him. "Ya sound bonkers too, mate," he giggled.
                          
"D'ya wanna play outside?" Jett asked, his big eyes looking at me pleadingly. "Why not?" Once I said that, he grabbed my arm and sprinted outside, dragging me along behind him. "Come on! There's a big ol' mud puddle in the back yard," Jett told me, his eyes shining with mischief. "But our clothes will get dirty," I disagreed, mummy having always told me to not make a mess. "Then take off your shirt and trousers," he stopped running as we got closer, stopping a few feet away.
                          
He pulled off his shirt and pants, only leaving him in his flag underwear. "What flag is that?" I asked, pointing to his butt. "The Strayan flag," he said, looking down at it. "I was born there." I pulled off my clothes as well and it was his turn to point at my flag underwear. "What flag is that one?" he asked casually. "The Principality of Sealand's flag," I told him proudly, happy that I actually remembered what it was called. "Ace," he turned and ran to the puddle and jumped in, mud splashing up to his knees, "Come on ya wuss."
                          
I frowned and ran forward, slipping and face planting into the cold mud. "Hahaha, ya shouldn't run," he laughed, reaching down to help me up. I took his hand and he pulled me up, gently wiping the mud from my eyes so I could see. "There," he said, "All better." "Ah, thanks," I turned red in embarrassment. "No worries," he smiled.
                          
"What in the bloody hell happened here?!"