sadieandmo:

Sadie: More RP cuteness with @squeakpigsrevenge!

sadieandmo:
“Sherlock,love…sweetheart…precious little one…think *very* carefully, okay?” Greg said, working ever so hard to remain patient. “Now, think carefully, remember?…What did you do with Uncle Greg’s glasses?”

squeakpigsrevenge:
“G’asses on you face.” Sherlock said, not even glancing away from Paddington on the telly.
“Sherlock,” Greg flipped off the television, “baby doll, they are not on my face.”

sadieandmo:
Sherlock gasped and sat up. “G’eg, no! G’eg, bear…bear back on!” he pleaded, crawling over to Greg’s chair and pulling himself up on his knee. “Bear now, p’ease!”
“I will turn bear back on when you find my glasses.”
Sherlock pouted and shook Greg’s leg; “Bear on, p’ease!”
Greg sighed…it was partly his fault for letting Sherlock play with them in the first place and not keeping a closer eye on him when he was this tiny. But the way the little detective had giggled at him when he came out wearing them, which was a rarity, had been too cute to ignore. “…Help Uncle Greg find his glasses, and we’ll watch Paddington again, twice.”

squeakpigsrevenge:
“I dun know, G’eg, I dun’ know.” Sherlock dropped his forehead onto Greg’s knee and rocked it back and forth. “Bear, G’eg, p’ease.” Sherlock peeked up at him only to find his usual tactics not working.
“Glasses, Sherlock. Or no more bear.”  
Sherlock wailed, “nooooooo, G’eg.” Sherlock dragged himself to his feet, flapping about dramatically. “Why need ‘em?”
“I need them to read.”
“Make G’eg y’ook smart.”
“Thank you.”
“G’eg cana’ fin’ g’asses so on’y y’ook smart.”

sadieandmo:
“I can’t find my glasses because I can’t *see* them, that’s why I need them back,” Greg said, making an effort not to sound annoyed. “Where did you put them after you tried them on?”
Sherlock stood there with his thumb in his mouth, still looking disheveled after waking from his afternoon nap only a half hour before; hair frizzy and unbrushed, onesie half-unsnapped and rumpled, wet nappy sagging and sitting low on his hips. He looked down at the floor and made an exaggerated turn in a complete circle, then looked back up at Greg and shrugged.
Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sherlock…”
“My’coff does ‘at.”
“Yes, I know Mycroft does this. If Sherlock doesn’t–”
“Where My’coff?”
“At work. If Sherlock doesn’t–”
“Why?”
Greg took a deep breath; “Because. IF Sherlock doesn’t find Uncle Greg’s glasses in the next ten minutes, Paddington goes away and Sherlock sits in time-out until they ARE found.”

squeakpigsrevenge:
“How I can fin’ em in timeout?” Sherlock made a show of looking under the pillow he’d been resting on.
“You’ll sit in timeout until I find them.”
Sherlock dropped the book he’d been ‘searching’ inside. “I be ina corner fore’ber,” he cried, eyes suddenly glassy.
“Oi! Watch the sass, little boy.”
“I gotsa’ watch cause G’eg cana’ see?”
Greg gritted his teeth. The headache he’d gotten from walking around without his glasses intensified.
“Did you leave this room with my glasses?”

sadieandmo:
Sherlock shook his head and pouted; he didn’t like it when his G’eg was cross with him. He’d been in the sitting room the whole time, ever since G’eg had brought him in and let him have a cuddle in his lap while he woke up…it wasn’t even until then that Sherlock had noticed the glasses and giggled, then asked if he could try them on. Then Greg had plunked him on the floor with Paddington while he went to fetch a clean nappy.
“You were wearing them when I left, child…when did you take them off?”
Sherlock tugged on an errant curl by his ear. “Bear y’ook funny, so I take off.”
“Okay, but where did you take them off? Come on, come sit down and show Uncle Greg exactly what you did after that.”