A/N: Yeah, I don't know...I was reading stuff on and I found one that seemed like it would be something Shawn would do. So I decided to write him doing it. I'll post the quote in the end note.
Anyway, really short, purposeless oneshot. But I think it's cute and there's Shules.
That's Not on the DIY Channel
Shawn Spencer climbed out of the passenger seat of his car in the parking lot of Babies R Us. His wife, Juliet Spencer, hopped out of the driver's seat.
Shawn smiled at his amazing wife. She looked just as tired as he did, and yet she still managed to look absolutely beautiful.
Juliet reached into the backseat of their car, unbuckling the car seat of their newborn son, Evan.
Evan, who had sandy blonde hair and Juliet's bright blue eyes, was eight days old, and Shawn still couldn't grasp the fact that he was a father.
"What are we getting here, again?" Shawn asked, unfolding the stroller, as Jules pulled the baby out of the car.
"He needs footie pajamas," Juliet told her husband, softly kissing her son's soft hair before placing Evan in the stroller.
"Doesn't he have a ton of PJs?" Shawn inquired. "You got a bunch at the baby shower, didn't you?"
Pushing the stroller toward the entrance of the store, Juliet responded, "Yeah, but not very many have feet." Jules reached down and grabbed one of her son's small, covered feet and gave it a little wiggle. "Your little feet are getting cold when you're asleep, aren't they?" She turned back to Shawn who was smiling at Juliet. He loved watching her talk to their child. "Those socks don't stay on his feet, and I think he keeps waking up in the middle of the night because he's cold."
It was mid-March, almost the beginning of spring, but it was unusually cold in Santa Barbara.
This was the first time they had been out of their house with their son. Juliet didn't want to send Shawn on his own to Babies R Us, afraid he would come home with an unnecessary amount of baby toys and stuffed animals, but, as a new first-time mom, she wasn't ready to be away from her baby for any length of time. Therefore, they had decided to go as a family to do their shopping, although Jules was hoping it wouldn't take very long. She didn't want Evan to be out with all the people and germs for very long.
"Okay, footie pajamas. Got it," Shawn responded with a nod.
Shawn watched his son's face as they walked into the store and toward the clothing section. As Juliet looked through the selection, Shawn stood by the stroller and made faces at his baby.
"Come here, buddy," Shawn cooed as he picked up the small infant. The hazel-eyed man began to make fish faces and bubble noises toward his son.
Evan looked up at his daddy and seemed to smile. Shawn's eyes caught sight of an employee and noticed Juliet coming back toward him.
"Hey!" Shawn called to the Babies R Us employee who turned her attention toward the faux psychic. Before the young woman could respond, Shawn spoke, holding Evan up a bit higher.
"Look what we made!"
Juliet rolled her eyes at her husband as the employee smiled and nodded. "Shawn!"
"Jules, look at this little guy. They don't teach you how to make these on the DIY channel, but we did it. We made him ourselves."
"Congratulations," the young woman offered, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Can I help you find anything?"
"Thank you," Juliet responded, placing the footie pajamas she had found on top of the stroller. She then took Evan from her husband's arms, placing him back in the comfort of his stroller. "And no, we're fine. Thanks."
Shawn followed as his wife began moving toward the registers in the front of the store.
Mumbling, Shawn told Juliet, "I just thought she would be impressed."
A/N: Here's the quote from Not Always Right
(I work at a kids clothing store and a customer comes in with his wife. He is holding his newborn baby.)
Customer: "Look what we made!"
Yeah, so that's where my inspiration came from. That one little line. I posted that quote on tumblr earlier too with the caption "Future Shawn Spencer, is that you?" and I was thinking it would be fun if yes, it was him. So I wrote this.