"Addison Montgomery with a toddler..."

"Henry has completely destroyed her white walls and carpets. He's currently into drawing...and spilling...and smearing."

-Amelia, Greys Anatomy Season 11 Episode 5

Drawing

"Henry…"

The little boy looked up from the piece of paper on the table in front of him to meet his mother's eyes.

"Do you want to come with me to see Daddy for a few minutes? I need to talk to him about a patient and I'm sure he'd love to see you."

The three year old shook his head, "I drawing, Mommy."

"I know, I can see that. You don't want to take a break?"

"No."

Addison sighed and looked around her office. She wasn't fond of the idea of leaving the toddler alone for the five minutes she would be gone. She tried to avoid leaving him unattended when possible. "Okay, Henry, you can stay but I need you to listen carefully, Buddy. Do not get up and leave this office, do not draw on my walls again, or the couch or anything else you know you're not supposed to draw on. Got it?"

Henry nodded he continued scribbling away with his washable crayons. He looked up in time to see his mother walk out of the doorway then he rose to his feet. He walked over to her desk and climbed up on her chair. He surveyed everything on her desk then reached for the one marker he found- a black sharpie. He opened the file right in front of him and scribbled away on the first few pages. A content smile appeared on his face as he shut the file, put the marker back and went back to see at his spot to continue his other drawing.

The three year old was rather pleased with himself. His mother loved seeing his "art." She would open the file and find it and it would make her happy...or so he thought.

"Henry," a voice called from the door. Henry looked up to see his pseudo-aunt Naomi standing there. "Your mom asked me to check on you, you okay?"

Henry nodded his head, "I drawing," he told his aunt, holding up the white paper with red scribbles for his aunt to see. "That's Mommy's hair."

"And Where is the rest of Mommy?"

Henry shrugged, "I don't know how to draw peoples." He reached for a black crayon and made a few lines beside the red scribbles, "And that's Daddy's hair."

"Henry," Naomi started, going to take a seat on the couch behind him, "Why did you have that mischievous smile on your face when I first got here?"

"Huh?" he asked, unsure of what he was being asked. "Auntie Naymee, I drawing!"

"I leaved a surprise for you in your office, Mommy." Henry told her from the backseat of the car on their way home.

"Oh yeah?" Addison asked, interest peaking. She turned around in the passenger seat to see her son.

"What's the surprise, Henry?" Jake asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.

"If I tell you it won't be a surprise!" he exclaimed with a giggle. "You gots to find it."

"You hid it?" Jake asked.

"Mhmm."

"Is it something that shouldn't be hidden in my office?" Addison asked skeptically. Henry had turned into quite a mischievous little boy over the last six months. She had encountered far too many undesirable scenarios.

"Henry, you remember how loud Mommy screamed when you put a spider in the drawer she keeps her stethoscope? I'm still trying to figure out where you found a spider that large and scary and how you carried it and got it into her desk drawer without getting caught, but do you remember how loud she screamed when she found it?"

"It was a cute spider! I thinked Mommy would like it."

"Well you learned otherwise, right?" Jake asked hopefully. "So I hope this time it is not another insect that you hid. I don't want to have to leave a patient to go kill a bug for your mother again."

"Its not a bug. Its a drawing. But you gots to find it."

"Just give me a second to get your chart and we can get started," Addison said as she took a seat at her desk and reached for the chart of top of the small pile on her desk.

"Is everything okay, Dr. Montgomery?" the woman asked nervously from her seat in front of the desk.

"I got the results of your biopsy." Addison told her as she flipped the chart open. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the page.

"Dr. Montgomery?" The woman asked, moving to the edge of her seat.

"I'm sorry, I was going to show you the images and test results for comparison but um… apparently my son drew on them." She paused for a second longer before collecting herself and recovering as professionally as she could, "The mammogram showed that the bump you felt was fluid filled cyst. We aspirated that fluid and biopsied it when you came in a few days ago and it came back clear, so its not cancer. It was just a small cyst. It happens sometimes."

"So I don't have anything to worry about?"

"No," Addison assured with a smile.

"Can I see what your son drew?"

Addison turned the folder over to the woman across the desk so she could see the scribbles on in the chart, "He's three and he loves drawing. We have childcare in the office but Henry refused to stay yesterday. I left him alone in here for two minutes, maybe less, and I told him not to draw on anything he knows he's not supposed to draw on. On the way home he told me he left a surprise drawing for me in my office. I should have know it was on something important."

"The important thing is that he did it with good intentions," the woman replied, "It could be worse. I'm sure you can request another copy of those test results."

Addison shook her head, "They're all electronically inputted in your chart. No need to request more. I just had these send over to show you. But you're right, it could be worse. It has been worse. Once he found red lipstick in the waiting room and brought it in here and colored the couch and the walls."

Spilling

"What kind of manly things are we gonna do today, Henry?" Jake asked the little boy as he carried him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jake placed him to sit on the counter by the sink and grabbed the french press to make his morning coffee.

"I help?"

"You can help me make my coffee. You can push down on the plunger when time comes," Jake promised.

Henry grinned in satisfaction. That was one of his favorite things about staying home with his dad. His mother never let him help when she made coffee for herself in the morning. She would tell him that she doesn't want him to spill the hot liquid and burn himself.

A few minutes later father and son were seated on the couch watching a DVRed basketball game; Jake with a cup of coffee in his hand and Henry with a sippy cup of warm chocolate milk.

A few minutes into the game, Henry threw his arms up in celebration of his favorite team making a shot. He sent his sippy cup full of chocolate milk flying into the air.

Jake's eyes widened as the blue and red cup cup landed on the white carpet. He got up to survey the damage, cringing at the chocolate milk droplets on the table, dripping down on the carpet and the puddle seeping in beside the sippy cup.

"Mommy's gonna be mad at you."

"At me?" Jake asked with a brow raised as he looked at his son.

"Mommy never lets me drink anything but water in here. She says I hafta have stuffs like coco and juice in the kitchen cuz I spill everything. You let me drink it here so its you's fault."

"Jake? Henry?" Addison called out as she walked through the front door at the end of the day. She took off her coat and hung it up with her purse and turned to see Jake on his hands and knees scrubbing the living room rug. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning the rug."

"I can see that. I mean why are you cleaning it. What did you two spill?"

"Well, Henry spilled chocolate milk this morning...then he spilled apple juice around lunch time. Right before bed he colored this one area with a marker he found in our office. He also colored over there," he gestured to the white wall beside the staircase, "But I got that off fairly easily."

"All you had to do was watch him for one day…" Addison trailed off.

"And I did. He's alive. We didn't burn the house down. We didn't do anything terrible and end up in the ER…"

"But you ruined my $8,000 rug and drew on my walls."

"He's a toddler. You decorated this whole place to be white and clean…"

"It's a beach house! I'm not a tasteless man like Sam to have made everything super dark. It should feel airy, bright and clean, that's the point of a beach house."

"Eight thousand dollar white rugs and three year olds don't belong in the same house," Jake insisted.

"I bought the rug long before he was conceived. His birth mother was probably in middle school when I decorated this place."

"Well, we may have to get a new rug."

Addison groaned, "Where is he now?"

"I put him to bed."

"It's 7pm."

"He spilled more than went into his mouth and he drew on walls. It was time for bed before he shit on the kitchen counter and called it a day."

Addison rolled her eyes, "And this is why no mother leaves the father in charge for a whole day."

An hour later Jake was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a bottle of beer in his hand. His wife was lying with her head of his lap and her legs curled closer to her body for warmth. His one hand was occupied with playing with Addison's hair. He knew that she liked the way it felt after having her hair tightly tied all day.

"Addie," he whispered. She was half asleep and he didn't want to startle her.

"Hmm." She mumbled, struggling to stay awake and alert.

"We need a new rug and it can't be white."

Addison scoffed at the statement, "I'm not ruining the whole appearance of my house with a mismatching rug just because you can't control a toddler for one day."

Smearing

Jake opened his eyes on Saturday morning and looked around. The us was streaming in through the window so he knew it wasn't too early. He propped himself up on his elbows to see the clock over Addison's sleeping form. 8:37 am. He eased himself back on his pillow and rubbed his eyes, not remembering the last time their son had let them sleep so peacefully.

Henry was usually up at 6:30 (at the latest). He usually screamed for attention so someone could take him out of the confides of his crib. When he didn't get the attention he sought, Henry would climb out of the crib himself and walk down the hall to his parents' room and shake them awake. They rarely ever had the luxury of sleeping passed 7 and this couldn't be a good sign.

Jake quietly got out of bed without disturbing his wife. He came to a sudden stop before reaching his half open bedroom door. He could hear small movement coming from the en suite bathroom. "Henry," he said quietly as he walked into the bathroom. "Henry!" He yelled once he saw the mess his son had created. He picked up the three year old off the bathroom counter and set him down on the ground. "How did you climb up here to begin with?" He asked before noticing the step stool from his room.

"Like my picture?" The little boy asked happily, pointing to the mirror.

Jake's eyes widened in horror at the sight of cream and dirt substance smeared all over the mirror. He picked up the three empty containers on the counter to identify the substance but failed after realizing the writing was not in English.

"Oh, Henry, where do you come up with these things?" He asked rhetorically.

"Dunno." Henry shrugged.

"That was a rhetorical question." Jake replied as he washed the goo off of the three year old's hands. "Stand right there. Don't move, don't draw on walls or spill anything or rub anything anywhere."

Henry giggle as he tried to stand perfectly still.

Jake's attempt to clean the brown mud looking substance and the white cream backfired, the more he tried the rub them off with a towel the more it smudged. He threw the towel in the direction of the hamper and grabbed the two of the three small glass containers.

"Stand right there where I can see you," he said as he escorted his son from the en suite bathroom to the bedroom. "Addison," he whispered as he nudged her shoulder to wake her.

"What?" She asked groggily. "If you woke me up for a morning quickie before Henry gets up..."

Jake cut her off before she could say anymore, "Henry has been up for a while. It's almost 9am"

Addison opened her eyes and looked up to see her husband standing beside her side of the bed, "9 am? Really?"

"Mhmm. What's this stuff?"

Addison took the empty glass jar from him, "My anti wrinkle cream."

"And this?" he asked, displaying the other small jar for her to see.

"European mud mask."

"Mud mask? So it's mud?"

"Not entirely. It's European, okay? From France to be more specific."

"And how much for the French mud?"

"What does it matter, Jake?"

"I'm curious."

"$335."

"Oh, good, only three digits. Is it editable?"

"It's a mud mask, Jake. Just because it's brown and from Europe doesn't mean we can put it on toast and call it Nutella," Addison retorted sarcastically.

"Henry smeared two jars of the cream stuff and a jar of the mask on the bathroom mirror."

"Two jars?! That's like a four or five month supply! I barely use half a gram of the lotion a day and the mask is weekly!"

"Hey, don't yell at me. I didn't smear it all over the bathroom mirror," Jake said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I did scratch the mirror while trying to clean it off...and cleaning only smeared it around even more."

Addison groaned and sat up in bed. She caught sight of her son standing by the bathroom door trying not to laugh.

"Henry," she started firmly.

"I was making you a Gmorning pichure!" He explained in his defense before his mother could say anything else. "I made one in my room with old diappie cream but you didn't come to see it when I called!"

Addison fell back on her pillow and sighed heavily, "He's lucky he's cute."

So I watched (read fast forwarded through) that episode last night and and decided that it was worthy of a whole one-shot. I'm secretly (or not so secretly) hoping that scene inspires a whole slew of one-shots and stories.