A/N: I had a short Kodocha fic on my old account that I will upload once I find it on my computer. For now, this is just a one shot I wrote a few days ago. Made me realize how much I miss this show.

The sounds of screaming filled the entire second floor of their home. Akito Hayama, first time father and overall lazy pervert, could feel the panic rising as he raced around the room in search of something to shut the kid up. He checked her diaper which, while it didn't smell like daisies, was clean. He tried opening a bottle of her baby food, which not only looked like someone's puke, it smelled worse than a diaper. His daughter adamantly refused it, shaking her head violently from side to side, and he didn't quite blame her. The screams continued as her tiny chest heaved up and down in exertion. Next up were her toys as he tried to shove squeaky and plush toys alike in front of her red eyes. He tried to talk soothingly in that annoying baby voice he promised himself he would never use. How far would he have to fall in order to get a moment of peace and quiet?

His daughter was more demanding than her mother, and that was for sure saying something. As his panic rose, he made a last ditch effort to comfort her by cradling the baby to his chest. In his haste, Hayama reached for his daughter and blinding caught her by her feet. As he lifted her, he watched as her head and entire upper body disappeared to swing wildly from his grasp. Not sure how to handle what was happening, Hayama watched the tiny body of his daughter slowly hang upside down from his fingertips. Having never had experienced his before, the baby's mouth suddenly closed, returning the room to an almost eerie silence. A sigh of relief escaped from Hayama's mouth unbidden. His daughter, his angel when she wasn't crying and he felt like he wanted to jump off a cliff, hung there silently until the blood rushed to her head and she decided once and for all she did not like this position. The wail that came thundering from her mouth was like nothing he had ever heard.

"HAYAMA!"

Another scream, one that very rivaled his daughter in strength, came just outside the door. He sweat dropped as he waited for his fate to play out. His wife, Sana, came rushing through the door looking as if she was ready to fight a battle, which she probably was, he mused. Her footsteps froze as she gazed upon the scene in front of her. Her mouth opened wide as she rushed forward to take their daughter from him. After placing their still screaming daughter carefully on the nearest stable surface, which happened to be the changing table, Sana turned backed to her husband, face red with the anger she would let lose on him.

"Have you no sense whatsoever? Who said you could ever hold a baby like that? You good for nothing idiot!"

Pulling out her shiny red hammer, that she carried with her always, her arm arched backwards as she brought the hammer down with full force down onto her husband's head. As soon as the hammer made contact with a satisfying thunk, the room went deathly silent. Frozen, both parents turned their heads slowly to their daughter whose mouth had suddenly snapped closed.

They both stared at the cubby, one year old carrot top who innocently stared back. Giggling sounds and drool came out of her mouth in similar proportions as her hands came together in a silent clap. The smile stayed plastered on her face as she clapped her hands again and again.

Without tearing her gaze away, Sana slowly raised her hand and brought the hammer back down onto her husband's unsuspecting head. The giggles erupted from the baby's mouth again as her hands moved again to clap. Slowly the baby wiggled about on the table, waiting for more, and looking as if she would holler if she didn't get it. More than willing to reply, the hammer was brought down again and again.

Accepting his fate, Hayama slid down to the floor where he sat cross legged, head laying hopelessly in his hand. As the hammer struck another blow, and he heard his daughter's joyous laugh, he felt a bump the size of the Himalayas grow on his head. Looking up to gaze between his beautiful daughter's face, and that of his wife's, he couldn't deny that he was one lucky guy.