Sketches

"What are you drawing, Varian?" Quirin asked his 9 year old son.

"Plans for a pump action spray gun to use on the hornet's nest." Varian answered casually.

Quirin sighed. "I thought we agreed to let the beekeeper handle that." he reminded Varian.

"But with the right chemical compound, I'm sure I could-" Varian began.

"Varian, I said no." Quirin was firm. "Now go wash up for dinner."

"...Fine." Varian mumbled and walked away. In a small act of childish rebellion, he left his drawings on the floor.

Quirin bent to pick them up. Why couldn't his son draw normal things, like a dog, a horse, a tree? But no, the pages were full of plans for various inventions. A bath bomb that exploded in a flurry of soap bubbles was at least practical. Plans for a boiler to heat water seemed more fanciful to Quirin. And an oven that somehow worked without the power of coal or wood, that was just crazy and the copious note on how to 'harness the power of lightning!' did nothing to assuage Quirin of that opinion.

There were more plans, some of them actually useful such as the automatic sprinkler to water a large portion of the fields at once. And a collapsible ladder that folded for easy storage was interesting, although Quirin saw nothing wrong with the standard ladder he'd used for years. There were notes on chemicals that Quirin could barely pronounce used to kill insects or boost soil quality. It was nice to see that Varian was taking an interest in the family business.

But it was the last page that stuck with Quirin the most. It showed a drawing of Varian riding on Quirin's shoulders and smiling broadly. Quirin was slightly taken aback. They hadn't done that in months. Perhaps, he mused, it was time they started again.

THE END

So I just heard of a series of prompts called 'Variantology' and this is my entry for the first one, 'father and son'. I don't think I'll manage to do all of them, but I'll certainly aim to write more cute drabbles. Enjoy!