Freewrite prompts: Washcloths and Sour

Dean was working on his car in the garage. He was trying to fix up an oil leakage and probably tighten some screws. He isn't an expert in doing up cars but it is a hobby he has picked up for his leisure.

Ring ring ring...

He knew those anklet bells. Someone had just walked in. It's his little baby girl. Well, not that baby anymore, she was already 5, but you know the daddy's heart.

He could smell her and her pickled mangoes. "Eeeewww... Please don't offer me, baby girl. Please!" Dean was silently pleading in his heart, though he tried to look calm on the outside.

"BOO, Daddy! I found you!" her little head peeked under the car. Right in her hands was that jar of pickled mangoes. He could smell the sourness in the air, he never understand why she loves it.

"Hey baby girl. What ya doing here?" he smiled looking at his angel.

"Here, have some pickles, daddy. You're gonna love them!" she offered a piece to Dean.

"It's okay, darling. You enjoy it yourself! I am okay without it," he was trying to persuade her.

"No, Daddy. Come try!" With that, she sort of shoved it into his mouth?!

He squeezed his eyebrows and they went frowning to their worst, he was sure. It is so FREAKING SOUR!!!

"Is it nice? Show me your face!" she insisted.

Dean tried to smile and he wiped the "sour" tears off his face with the back of his hand.

"Hahahahahahahahah! You looked like you have been drawn by Jigglypuff, Daddy!" she was laughing her heads off. "Look at yourelf in the mirror, Daddy!"

Dean knew it must have been the marks from his dirty hands, oh dear. Hence, he tried to wipe it off with some washcloths he carried in, only forgetting he had used them to wipe the leaking parts earlier. Bad idea, Dean, bad idea!!!

His 5-year-old laughed so hard that she started coughing. "Daddy, you look worse now. I think you have a burnt face! Dragonite must have breathed his flames on you!"

"Now, Dragonite is going to get you and make you look the same as me!" With that, the laughters went on and on, with some shrieking as well as the little feet with dingling bells ran around, followed by some steady big footsteps.

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Freewrite is a prompt writing initiated by @mariannewest and @improv to write a free-flow post without correcting or editing. I checked out her post to really get what it is before I jumped on the bandwagon. Basically, there is no right or wrong, just let the mind and fingers do their work, to find our creative self and let it come out of us.

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