"Barney, I'm not doing it."
"But whyyyy!" he whined. "I've already got her her costume. Look at all the details, Robin!" He was sitting on a stool, extremely accurate drawings of the robot costume scattered across their kitchen counter.
"Please tell me you didn't bribe your tailor to get a custom made robot costume for a two year old."
"Uh, Robin, he didn't need bribing. I've actually got him to do it for free. Turns out, he's a fan!"
"A fan of what?"
"A Robin Sparkles fan!"
"He's a Robin Sparkles fan. Your Ukrainian tailor is a Robin Sparkles fan."
"I know, right? Isn't it amazing?" Robin gave him a skeptic look. "Okay, I may have showed him Let's Go To The Mall once. Okay, twice. Okay, I gave him a DVD and Space Teens was also on it. I think he's still convinced it's porn." He sighed. "Ah, such a great guy."
"Okay, first of all, if that's true, I hope you realize your tailor now thinks you're married to a porn star."
"Uh, yeah, that's awesome." He grinned, and Robin rolled her eyes.
"Second of all, it's a kid show. An educational kid show. I'm very proud of it. And I've learned a lot of things just by starring in it."
He nodded, scrunching his nose. "Yeah, you did!"
Standing behind the counter, Robin leaned forward and hit his shoulder, making his smile turn into an exaggerated frown. "Ouch!"
"Whatever." She shrugged and took a sip of her beer. "Say what you want, I think Clara loves it."
His eyes grew wide, his mouth gaping as he grasped the counter edge not to lose his balance. "YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER WATCH A PORNO?" He frantically looked at the floor underneath him, gasping for air. "I think I need to sit down."
"FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, IT'S A KID SHOW! AND YOU'RE ALREADY SITTING DOWN!" She let out an exasperated sigh, lowering her Patrice voice. "And she's already the smartest one in her kindergarten class, so you know, you're welcome."
"Pfft. Please. That's not because of Space Teens! She's our daughter, those other kids ain't got no chance."
"That's not… Well no, you're actually right." She conceded, and gave him a high five.
"Too bad we're going to have to seek psychological help for her now. I've got to tell you this, Robin, after all I've done, I thought I was going to be the one to traumatize her for life. But watching her mom handling a stick and talking about beavers and wood? And she's not even three! I cannot possibly top that." He patted her hand. "It's okay, I forgive you."
"Do not make me punch you again." He abruptly moved his hand away from hers, cautiously pushing away from the counter. She grinned.
"Anyway, about that. She told me she wants to go as a beaver."
"God, a pet beaver, Barney."
He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then he shook his head. "I don't believe you."
"Yeah, I think you're lying."
"I am not!"
"You are too."
"I am literally not."
The tiniest voice interrupted them, calling her father from her room. "Daaaaaddy!"
Getting up from the stool, Barney smirked and started trotting towards their daughter's room. "Hold on, Scherbatsky, guess we're about to find out."
He emerged a couple of minutes later, carrying Clara with him. Her legs were wrapped around Barney's waist, her blond hair was ruffled from her nap and she was still a little sleepy, resting her head in the hollow of his neck.
Robin was sitting on the couch now, and she turned her head to look over the backrest as she smiled at her daughter. "'Afternoon, munchkin. Or should I say," she added as she raised an eyebrow,"beaver?"
Barney shot her a disapproving look. "Robin, come on. She's still half asleep. Show some respect." He said with a overly dramatic tone and a disgusted face.
"Damn it!" She whispered under her breath. "Are you hungry, sweetie?"
Clara shook her head no, and Barney looked at her, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, I know what's happening here. Let's let Mommy in on this, shall we, Clara?" He bounced his daughter up and down, and she looked at him, mirroring the same puzzled expression now appearing on Robin's face.
"You see, Robin, what we're experiencing here is a rare form of genetic mutation." He put his daughter on the couch next to Robin, who momentarily diverted her attention from Barney to say a soft "hey" and scoot closer to her, smoothing her hair.
"Let's see where Daddy goes with this." Robin whispered as she got closer to Clara's ear, earning a chuckle from her daughter. By now, she was used to Barney's dramatic stories.
Barney cleared his throat. "Little Clara here will never be hungry again." He continued, and his daughter gasped. "Because of this specific genetic mutation, her feet will disappear – don't you feel them shrinking, Clara?" She looked at her feet, and reached to touch one.
"Daddy, they feel okay!"
"They are now, my little friend. And your blue eyes, they will change color, and they will turn yellow!" He faked a shocked expression and put a hand over his mouth, and Clara did the same. Robin was quietly laughing and scratching her forehead, starting to get where this was going.
"Will they flicker too, Daddy-o?" she asked her husband, and he gave her a solemn nod. "Yeah, they will."
Seemingly out of nowhere, he then pulled out the head of his robot costume, putting it on his daughter's head in a swift move. "It's happening!" He clapped his hands, and the apartment went almost completely dark. Robin couldn't figure out how (in fact, she never could) but when the lights went on again, Clara was wearing her robot costume in its glorious entirety, and as much as she hated to admit it, she looked incredibly cute in it. Her round, smiling face was peeping out the hole in the robot's face, and the robot's eyes on her head were actually flickering with yellow light.
"Robin, look! Our Clara's a robot now!" He took his daughter's hand and helped her off the couch. "Clara," he whispered, a hand over his mouth. "Clara, let's take a bow." They both did, and Robin laughed and got up off the couch, heading for the bedroom.
"Where are you going?"
"There's a sparkly denim jacket and a blond wig I gotta find, Stinson."
Barney grinned, and as Robin disappeared into their room, he high fived his daughter.