Shark couldn’t thank his father-in-law enough for the gifts he’d sent him and Sinbad.
He at least was happy to get something so fancy. Sinbad, on the other hand, had just pinched the bridge of his nose.
“He’s really pushing the whole ‘drink more tea’ thing further than he should,” he’d said.
Shark just waved him off, saying that there was nothing wrong with having the set. If nothing else, it gave him the chance to learn first-hand how to brew tea.
At least no one else was around, so he wouldn’t commit what Harwood considered ‘a serious faux pas’. Not that Shark knew he wasn’t supposed to point the spout at anyone back then, so Harwood let it slide.
He’d gotten everything poured out, before realizing that he was a bit short on creamer. Much to his frustration, he got up and went downstairs.
“Sinbad, do we have any-”
“Oh…he must’ve gone out to get something.”
The dogs were probably outside, frolicking and playing. Just the thought of that adorable image put a spring into Shark’s step, as he reached the kitchenette.
First off, he made himself a cup of coffee. He actually felt bad that he and Sinbad didn’t use the coffeemaker as often as they’d like.
He just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t become what would basically be some kind of decoration piece.
Shark told himself not to drink so much tea and coffee, lest he get a full bladder to deal with later on.
Once that was done, he then pulled out some ingredients for mac ‘n cheese.
It would seem that the rattling of the macaroni box alerted a supervisor for him as he worked.
“Oh, Sagebear,” he said to her as he tried not to make too much of a mess. “Don’t worry about me. Daddy knows what he’s doing.”
Sagebear just stood there, her nose wiggling about in an effort to sniff out anything that fell on the floor.
Much to her confusion, Shark didn’t use the oven to cook this like Sinbad did
“I’m actually not really hungry,” he told her, “But it helps to have something on hand in case Sinbad doesn’t want to cook.”
Shark also didn’t have to worry about leaving so many dirty dishes, or scorching a pot by putting the heat on too high.
Once it was all put away, Shark went back upstairs.
It seemed one last gift Harwood sent had yet to be used. Shark was all too happy to at least try.
He just hoped that he was holding the bow right.
“Kind of a random thing for him to send us, but…Well, I guess I can use it at least once before it gets crammed under the bed and forgotten about.
“I’m no Lindsey Stirling, but maybe if I’m careful with it…”
Gently, he placed the bow onto the violin strings, trying to get any type of sound to creak out. Even an awful, loud one would suffice.
Eventually, after a few failed attempts, Shark finally got it to some semblance of music. It still could just barely be called music, though.
It was screechy, horrible, and just painful to listen to.
Nevertheless, it was one of the most beautiful sounds Sinbad had ever heard.