Archive of Our Own ^beta

“We’re lost.”

“We’re not lost.”

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

The parents exchanged a pointed look over their son’s head.

“We may be a little lost,” Cecil allowed. “One second.” He took a few steps away and closed his eyes, thinking hard. He opened his eyes several minutes later to witness the end of Esteban’s potty dance, a double handspring with impressive jazz hands, given he was using his feet. “Portapotty’s this way,” he said cheerily. “Carlos, you brought your sasquatch repellent, right?”

Carlos pulled the small canister from his pocket and took Esteban’s hand, gesturing for Cecil to lead the way.

Cecil did so cheerily, humming an off-tune version of the previous day’s weather as he led his family to fight a sasquatch, and eventually, use the portapotty.