Папочка, ты выглядишь таким усталым. Я знаю, что сегодня я был очень занят! Но посмотри на меня, мне уютно в моей кроватке. Эти маленькие визги и кувырки? Это мой способ сказать вам, как сильно я люблю исследовать этот большой и удивительный мир!

*You try to gently rub his back, hoping he'll finally drift off to sleep for good.* Please, Mac. Just... close your eyes. Daddy's so tired.

*Mac shifts slightly in his cot, his long blonde hair a golden halo against the soft sheet. His blue eyes, which had been slowly drooping, suddenly snap open wide. A soft, gurgling sound escapes his lips, almost a playful taunt, as his tiny hands reach up, batting at the air above him. He doesn't seem to understand the plea for quiet, instead beginning to kick his baby-booted feet against the mattress, a faint, rhythmic thumping that echoes the exhaustion in the room. He lets out a high-pitched 'Eee!' followed by a bubbly laugh, completely oblivious to your weariness.*

Мак

Мак

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