It's Genetic

By Misha <>

Rated G

Submitted October 1998

Summary: Can a "cookie thief" help Mommy make an important decision? She can when it involves chocolate!


Lois looked from one dress to the other. She'd been decisive enough in clobbering the head of the convenience store thieves last week, but now she just couldn't decide.

The awards ceremony was only four hours away, and if she wore the burgundy, she'd have to put her hair up. But the brown velvet … Lois touched the soft fabric, seeking inspiration. That required her hair down.

A dull thud downstairs distracted her, and she half-turned towards the bedroom door. The low rumble of her husband's voice reassured her, however, and she returned her attention to the two dresses draped on the bed.

It was always the little decisions that were the hardest.

A cheerful, squealy giggle preceded her daughter into the room. The brown-haired imp, trailing her well-worn teddy bear, scooted around the doorway, and squirmed under the bed in a flash.

"Rrrraaarrr!" Clark landed in the doorway with a thump and a growl. The body of a small child hung limply from under one arm. His tshirt was smeared with tan and brown stains, and dusted lightly with flour.

Lois recognized the familiar intensity of his gaze as he swept the room with his X-ray vision. Clark winked at her, and growled theatrically again. "Where's the cookie-thief?!" He flung open the closet door. "Yummy, crumby cookie-thief!"

"She's under the bed!" The limp child under his arm giggled. Michael opened his eyes, winked an identical wink at Lois, and went limp again.

Clark snorted. "Only foolish cookie-thieves hide under the bed. I know! She's in the shower!" He leaped for the bathroom doorway, his thump only partially drowning out the muffled giggle from under the bed.

Lois heard him prowl around the room, his growl echoing oddly off the tile, accompanied by a high-pitched little-boy giggle.

"Daddy!" Clark appeared at the bathroom doorway, Michael still swinging limply from under his arm. Their eldest called again from downstairs. "The buzzer's ringing!"

Clark's voice was serious for about half a nano-second. "I hear it, Jon!

"She got away." He swung up his son's body in front of him and growled into his stomach. "I'll have to eat this cookie-thief instead! Num! Num!" Clark started mock-gnawing.

"Mommy!" Mike squealed, squirming frantically. Lois smiled, approaching, but keeping her distance from the flailing arms and legs.

Clark paused in his gnawing, and Michael stilled. "Go get your cookies, Mikey," Lois said, and kissed his forehead.

Clark lowered his son to the ground, and almost before his feet touched the ground, Mike was out the door and down the stairs. Lois stepped into her husband's arms. "Got time for a smooch, love?" she asked.

Clark merely smiled and lowered his head to hers. He tasted of sugar and vanilla and chocolate. Lois smiled and sighed as he finally pulled away. "Think they'll be calmed down by the time the babysitter gets here?"

He shrugged, a grin playing with the corners of his mouth. "I doubt it. But they'll be more likely to calm down later." He kissed her again quickly and she listened to the rapid patter of his feet hitting the stair risers.

Lois lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "He's gone. You can come out now."

The reply from under the bed was muffled. Lois waited patiently, making a mental note to remind Clark to vacuum under the bed.

A minute later, the culprit emerged, the tell-tale cookie crumbs erased from her face, if not from the front of her shirt. A large brown smear decorated her face.

"Hey, sweetie." Lois swung her up to sit on the bed next to the dresses. "Want to help Mommy get dressed?"

"Uh-huh." Mara squirmed into a comfortable seat and sat there, drumming her heels against the side of the bed. "Whatcha gonna wear?"

"I've narrowed it down to the burgundy or the brown." Lois pointed to the two dresses beside her daughter.

Lois bit her tongue as the burgundy was becrumbed in a thorough examination and unceremoniously pushed off the end of the bed. "This one, Mommy." Her daughter looked up with a brilliant smile on her face. Her hands were buried in the soft brown velvet fabric, and she brought it up to her face to nuzzle.

"Hold on, sweetie." Lois disentangled the dress before the chocolate streak could transfer from Mara's face. "Why do you want me to wear it?" She held it up so she could see it better.

Lois was rewarded with an impatient look. "Because it's choclit!"

"And you know very well that Mommy likes chocolate just as much as you do, you little cookie thief." Clark scooped her up and swung her around, eliciting a giggle.


"Clark … "

"See- she likes to fly, just like you do, Lois."

"And she's got you wrapped around her little finger," Lois added dryly.

Clark merely nodded. "Yep. Just like her mother." He kissed her cheek. "Now go put on your chocolate dress, Mommy."

"Yeah! The choclit dress!" Mara squealed from her upside down position.

Clark looked at his inverted daughter and did a double take worthy of the Three Stooges. "How'd you do that? You turn right side up this minute, young lady!"

"But you're holding me, Daddy!"

"Oh, yeah!" Clark spun her upright again and swooped her around the room and out the door.

When he was gone, Lois held up the dress against her body and took a long look in the mirror. She tossed it back on the bed and called out as she all but slid down the banister. "Save a cookie for me!" She'd put on the 'choclit' dress after she'd gotten her chocolate fix.


Author's Note: There is absolutely no point to this story. No villain, no plot, just a few characters. These things happen. In any case, I hope you enjoyed this, and if you did (or if you hated it and simply _must_ tell me), please let me know at ANY comments, criticisms, maunderings about the weather, etc. are welcome.

Misha (

"Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead." — Gene Fowler