Just Like Daddy

Summary: When Clark decides to do something his father does it has mixed results. Rated K-

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Three-year-old Clark Kent watched in fascination as his father, Jonathan Kent, scraped the white frothy stuff off his face with the piece of metal. This was the first time Clark had seen this done and the way the stuff disappeared was fascinating to his three-year-old mind.

"Daddy?" Clark asked, tugging on Jonathan's plaid shirt.

The man looked down at his son standing right beside him. "Hello kiddo," Jonathan said, getting some of the shaving cream of his chin.

"What doing, Daddy?" Clark asked, cocking his head quizzically. Clark had lived with them for nearly two weeks and had picked up on English rather quick.

"I'm shaving, Son," Jonathan said, carefully running the razor under his nose.

"Me do?" Clark asked innocently.

Jonathan looked down at his son's pleading blue-green eyes. At times it was hard not to waffle when Clark begged like that, but Jonathan had to set limits on his son. Shaving was not one of those things that Clark could do right now.

"No. You can't shave right now, Clark. It will have to wait until you are older," Jonathan said, hoping that his voice sounded kind, but firm too.

"Why, Daddy?" Clark asked, puzzled as to why his father had said no.

"Because the razor hurts and it would hurt Daddy if you cut yourself with it," Jonathan said, ruffling his son's dark hair gently with his large hand.

Clark watched his father shave in silence until he was done. "Why don't you wash your face and I'll go see how the cows are doing?" Jonathan suggested, handing his son a rag.

"Kay, Daddy," Clark said, taking the rag from Jonathan.

Jonathan left the room. Clark opened the medicine cabinet. Daddy's razor gleamed on the shelf, like a beacon. Clark picked it up and managed to unfold the blade.

The foamy stuff that Jonathan put on his face was right there next to it. Clark squirted a huge amount of the stuff into his small hand and slathered it all over his face. Clark picked up the razor and started to scrape it across his face. Then it happened.

Martha Kent was cooking breakfast when she heard the loud anguished scream coming from the bathroom upstairs. Martha felt her heart nearly thud to a halt as she ran upstairs.

"Clark?" Martha asked, tapping on the door frantically.

Jonathan had said that he had left Clark to wash his face while he went to go feed the cows. At the sight before her Martha nearly threw up. Clark had what looked like shaving cream all over his face and a large gash by his jaw. It looked like a razor cut.

"Clark, what happened?" Martha asked, trying to wipe off the shaving cream and control the blood on his face all at once.

"Shave," Clark said, whimpering slightly as he looked up at his mother.

"You tried to shave?" Martha asked horrified.

"Daddy shave," Clark said, sniffling.

"Yes, Baby. Daddy does shave, but Daddy's older. Daddy didn't give you his razor, did he?" Martha asked, bandaging Clark's face.

"No, Mommy. I took," Clark said, his face looking miserable.

Martha couldn't say anything as she took her son down to the kitchen table. Jonathan was already sitting there, drinking coffee out of his favorite mug. Jonathan froze as he saw the band-aide on his son's face.

"Martha, what happened?" Jonathan asked, stooping down and lifting Clark's face so he could see the cut better.

"Jonathan, he just tried to shave with your razor," Martha said, her voice tight with anger at him for leaving it where their son could get it.

"He what? Clark Jerome Kent, didn't I tell you that you couldn't shave?" Jonathan said his voice turning from concerned to angry.

"Yes, Daddy," Clark said, looking down with a shamed face.

"You told him he couldn't?" Martha asked.

"He asked me if he could and I told him that this could happen. I hope you have learned a lesson, young man," Jonathan said icily.

"Yes, Daddy. No shave," Clark sniffled.

"Not only that. When Daddy says that you can't do something don't turn around and do it any way," Jonathan said sternly.

"Yes Daddy," Clark said.

Jonathan picked his son up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders. "Clark, I'm not saying this to be mean to you. I'm saying this because I love you and don't want to see you get hurt," Jonathan said, softening his voice.

"Okay, Daddy," Clark said, snuggling his head against Jonathan's chest.

"And I will have to punish you. Since you disobeyed me and used my razor without permission, after breakfast you will stay in your room until lunch and you can't watch Sesame Street this afternoon," Jonathan said firmly.

"Yes, Daddy," Clark said, upset over missing his favorite show, but knowing he deserved it.

Jonathan hugged his son, letting him cry his tears of shame. Jonathan felt relief that his son hadn't cut himself worse with the razor. After that day Clark never used Jonathan's razor again.

The End