Disclaimer: I do not own South Park and I make no profit from this work.

The Beginning

The only warning Sheila got about their visitors was the exuberant whoop of a man yelling her husband's name, and an answering cheer from Gerald. Well. She should have expected it, really. Gerald's friends were bound to be the first to visit in their new home.

They had opted to return to Gerald's hometown, South Park, to raise their family. It was better to raise children in a small-town atmosphere, everybody knew that. And Sheila was going to make sure that their son had absolutely the best of everything.

"Sheila, come and meet Randy and Sharon!"

Randy, it transpired, Sheila had briefly met before. She couldn't quite remember where, but he looked familiar, so she turned her attention to his wife, and the toddler in her arms.

"This is Stanley," Sharon said proudly, as he nearly fell out of her arms to get a good look around the room. "He just turned one in October. Didn't you, sweetie?"

Her son ignored the cooing and the pet terms, instead seemingly determined to get down and explore under his own power, seeing as his mother was clearly just going to stand there like a lemon and talk to other grown-ups.

"Oh, set him down," Sheila said. "We haven't left anything dangerous out; our Kyle's nearly one himself."

"Oh, you have a son too?" Sharon brightened.

They left the men exchanging stories (and beers, which Gerald would be hearing about later. Kyle wouldn't pick up bad habits at this age, but it always took Gerald time to kick a habit) and went into the kitchen. There, Stanley determined the tablecloth to be an excellent devise for holding oneself on one's feet, and Sheila busied herself making tea.

"Oh, isn't he precious?" Sharon cooed over Kyle, still asleep in his car seat. He had, blissfully, slept the whole way. "And so tiny! When was he born?"

"Last May," Sheila said. "Sugar? No? Okay, here you go. He was a bit early. But look at his feet; he's going to be tall when he's older, I'm sure of it. Like his grandfather."

"Oh, Stanley seems to be the epitome of average," Sharon laughed, sipping at her tea despite its scalding temperature. "Just like his father, really. But it's far too early to tell, isn't it? Do you have any others?"

"Not yet."

"Oh, don't rush," Sharon rolled her eyes, nudging Stanley around the table leg with her foot as he explored gracelessly. "We've got a daughter as well. She's nearly five, and running wild. We have some reprieve today, thank goodness, packed her off to her ballet lessons. She didn't like the new baby."

Sheila hummed worriedly. She and Gerald were already planning on having another baby - alright, she was. She'd always wanted two or three kids. But if Kyle got jealous...?

"Oh!" Sharon had been idly rocking Kyle's car seat with her free hand, and snatched it away when he suddenly stirred and whined.

"Oh, don't mind him," Sheila said, lifting him out and bouncing him in her lap. "If he doesn't wake up screaming, then he's not fussed."

"Hello, dear," Sharon cooed, when Sheila's son turned enormous blue eyes on her.

"Are you going to say hello?" Sheila demanded of her son, then puffed up proudly at Sharon. "He's already got a vocabulary of a hundred and fifty words. He's quite the chatterbox once he gets going."

It seemed, however, Kyle was supremely uninterested in the brunette opposite him, and soon found himself peering over the edge of his mother's lap and down at another little boy.

"Well," Sharon said, "maybe we can set up some playdates for them. Stanley doesn't really get along well with the other little boys his age at the moment. He prefers being left to himself, and I just don't think that's a good attitude for a child..."

Sheila put Kyle down on the floor, where he promptly ignored Stanley and made a beeline on hands and knees for one of the kitchen cupboards.

"We used to keep our pans low in our old kitchen," Sheila said as he struggled to open the door.

"Let me guess," Sharon said, "he'd get them out and smash them together?"

They laughed companionably as the two boys tried to best the cupboard door between them, failed, and fell to considering each other. After a few moments, Stan reached out, caught one of Kyle's wayward red curls, and pulled.

Hard.

Even as Sharon got up to separate them and scold her son, Kyle reached out with alarming accuracy, and poked Stan firmly in the eye. Which resulted in the toddler losing his balance and landing firmly on his bottom.

"Kyle!"

"Stanley!"

The two boys considered each other for another moment.

Then Kyle laughed gleefully and clapped his hands.

"Oh dear," Sheila said.

Stanley beamed, and reached out to do it again.