"Come on, Sealand! It's delicious!" Finland hovered in front of the micronation, holding out a spoonful of surstromming like he thought it was actually food. The stink of it was overwhelming.
Sealand stared at the surstromming. It seemed to stare back.
Finland smiled at him happily, eyes crinkling almost shut. Sweden, seated on a folding chair behind his wife, nodded gravely and made eating motions.
"Um...Mama?" the micronation asked, trying not to open his mouth far enough that Finland could sneak the spoon inside. "I was wondering...where do babies come from?"
Finland almost dropped the spoon. Sweden's expression almost changed. Somewhere, close by in the trees around the picnic ground, there came the soft cooing cries of a wood pigeon. A cloud sailed serenely across the sky.
"Um," said Finland. "Um, they, er...I mean, no-one knows where baby nations come from so-"
"No, I meant where baby humans come from," Sealand said, leaning away from the spoon, because his mama's hand was wobbling anxiously and he didn't want any of the surstromming near him. Jeez, even Jerk England wouldn't eat this stuff and he liked salmiakki. And haggis.
"Oh- uh- well- er-" Finland screwed his eyes shut. "When a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-"
"So like you and-"
"No, not like me and-"
Finland stared at the grass, a luminous flush rising on his cheeks. Sealand felt kind of bad about putting his mama (girlier papa? what was he supposed to call Finland anyway?) through this, but, on the other hand, the surstromming was still right there.
"When a man and a woman love each other very much," Finland started carefully, "they- um- they-"
"G't'KEA."
"Um. What?"
Sweden looked up from his own intent contemplation of the dirt and said, very clearly and precisely (which meant it must be important) "They. Go. To. IKEA." Then he dropped his gaze to the grass again, probably worn out from pronouncing all those vowels.
"Yes," said Finland. It sounded like I love you. "I mean, yes, that is exactly what happens. When a man and a woman love each other very much, they go to IKEA and get a baby."
"I've never seen any babies in IKEA," Sealand said skeptically.
"Well, no, you have to - um - they keep them in a central warehouse so you have to fill out an, an ordering form. They can't keep babies in the shop, because of...store policy on...unsupervised children."
"Oh. Right," Sealand said, and kicked miserably at the picnic bench. Jeez, France had promised that would work!
"Is that all right?" Finland smiled and raised the spoon again. "Please, Sealand, just try a little bit. I promise it's delicious-"
Dammit.
Note: Duh. Where else could little Swedes come from? Also, wow I love italics.
The Solution To All The Problems It Didn't Cause (1/1)
Sealand stared at the surstromming. It seemed to stare back.
Finland smiled at him happily, eyes crinkling almost shut. Sweden, seated on a folding chair behind his wife, nodded gravely and made eating motions.
"Um...Mama?" the micronation asked, trying not to open his mouth far enough that Finland could sneak the spoon inside. "I was wondering...where do babies come from?"
Finland almost dropped the spoon. Sweden's expression almost changed. Somewhere, close by in the trees around the picnic ground, there came the soft cooing cries of a wood pigeon. A cloud sailed serenely across the sky.
"Um," said Finland. "Um, they, er...I mean, no-one knows where baby nations come from so-"
"No, I meant where baby humans come from," Sealand said, leaning away from the spoon, because his mama's hand was wobbling anxiously and he didn't want any of the surstromming near him. Jeez, even Jerk England wouldn't eat this stuff and he liked salmiakki. And haggis.
"Oh- uh- well- er-" Finland screwed his eyes shut. "When a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-"
"So like you and-"
"No, not like me and-"
Finland stared at the grass, a luminous flush rising on his cheeks. Sealand felt kind of bad about putting his mama (girlier papa? what was he supposed to call Finland anyway?) through this, but, on the other hand, the surstromming was still right there.
"When a man and a woman love each other very much," Finland started carefully, "they- um- they-"
"G't'KEA."
"Um. What?"
Sweden looked up from his own intent contemplation of the dirt and said, very clearly and precisely (which meant it must be important) "They. Go. To. IKEA." Then he dropped his gaze to the grass again, probably worn out from pronouncing all those vowels.
"Yes," said Finland. It sounded like I love you. "I mean, yes, that is exactly what happens. When a man and a woman love each other very much, they go to IKEA and get a baby."
"I've never seen any babies in IKEA," Sealand said skeptically.
"Well, no, you have to - um - they keep them in a central warehouse so you have to fill out an, an ordering form. They can't keep babies in the shop, because of...store policy on...unsupervised children."
"Oh. Right," Sealand said, and kicked miserably at the picnic bench. Jeez, France had promised that would work!
"Is that all right?" Finland smiled and raised the spoon again. "Please, Sealand, just try a little bit. I promise it's delicious-"
Dammit.
Note: Duh. Where else could little Swedes come from? Also, wow I love italics.