Okay, I got this idea from my little brother yet again! Enjoy!

I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/

France clucked under his breath as he looked over Canada's scraped up knees. The small colony was sniffling pathetically, lower lip trembling as if he had done something wrong. His big eyes followed France's hands as he quickly got out some bandages and began to clean out the wound.

Canada winced, trying to focus on something else as France used soap to make certain there would be no infections. France wasn't rough, but it still stung like crazy.

"Papa... It hurts..." he finally whined as the stinging got to him. France kissed him on the forehead, smiling a little. "I know, but we don't want it to get infected, mon cher..."

Canada stuck his lower lip out, pouting. France chuckled at the expression, finishing up with the bandaging. "See? We're done already. Get that silly little frown off your face." He pinched Canada's cheek as he said it, causing the tot's expression to darken.

"'m not a baby..." he grumbled, crossing his arms. France frowned slightly, wondering what had brought on such an unusual amount of defiance, but then he grinned.

"Okay then... If you're not a baby, what are you?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the tot watched, as if waiting for France to decide what he was. France took Canada's chubby hands, examining them closely. " Hmmm... Oh... Oh dear..."

"What? What's wrong?" Canada watched him frown, pulling on one of his little fingers. The larger country ignored him, moving on to Canada's chubby little legs. His face creased more. "Oh my... It's just as I feared..."

"What? What is it?!" Canada's eyes were wide with baby alarm. France looked back seriously at the child. "It looks like these chicken legs are ready for the oven! I have to get them cooked right now!"

He quickly threw Canada over his shoulder, causing him to squeal. "I'm not a chicken, France!"

France opened up the cupboard, glancing thoughtfully at Canada. "I don't think we need any seasoning... But we definitely need to tenderize the meat!"

And with that, he began tickling Canada mercilessly, causing the tiny colony to shriek with laughter, and try to wriggle out of his grasp. "I'm not a chicken! I'm a baby! I'm a baby!"

"Are you sure? I could have sworn you were a juicy little chicken..." France teased, easing up on the tickling.

The shrieking baby shook his little head rapidly. "'m not!! Papa it's me!! Don' eat me!!"

France chuckled, setting the baby on the counter, arching his eyebrows as if surprised to see him there. "No...my little Canada? Where'd the chicken go?"

"I don't know!" Canada replied, genuinely confused. He looked around a little, as if he might find the chicken his Papa had just confused him for.

France shook his head, picking Canada up, this time cradling him like a child, rather than a chicken. "I suppose we'll have to have bread and cheese instead...and some wine for me, of course."

Canada nodded, grinning up at his Papa. He hoped he stayed a baby forever...after all, the alternative seemed to be a chicken...

/AN/ Isn't France the best Papa in the whole world? Anyway, my sis Gemina collaborated with me on this one, so say hi to her in your review! And she demands cookies too.