George was in no shape or form going to ever be dad of the year. That was the harsh reality he accepted early on. He still tried though. George wanted to be a better dad it was just hard for him to change when it came to something like this. He wished he could have been gifted with such patience and understanding, that seemed to come as naturally as breathing, that others parents had. George just didn’t have it. He couldn’t understand your little child brain and that was the truth, even if he pretended things were different.

He had been busy, minding his own business and letting you go on with your day to realize that it had been a while since he checked up on you. As the attempting to change parent he was, he got up and went to the living room where he left you only to find you missing. Why did he trust himself to actually raise you? He didn’t have time to answer and heard the razor going off so he rushed into the bathroom. There, he found you happily sitting on the floor. Now, you looked like a mess. You had shaved off portions of your hair in a childish manner, ruggedly. George knelt down to your height, giving you a sassy side eye before stealing the razor from your hand and putting it back away in his drawer. He let out a drawn out sigh, exhausted with your little shenanigans.

“How’d ya learn that, little mate?” George gruffly murmured as he scratched his chin, looking at you and trying to understand.