#when same uncle's washing machine broke i approached all my other uncles with a plan for replacing it bc uncle next door has limited income

[hipsofsteel]

my family is like "why dont you show initiative to do xyz?" and then when i show initiative they're like "actually no, you're not allowed to go anywhere or do anything"

[ducks-gen-swap]

A Star is Born

This ended up a lot longer than I expected.

-

Doing the laundry was the most exaustive chore for Huey.

Yes, sometimes he would have to wash one or two shirts from the kids that were dirtier by hand, but then he’d just need to put them with the rest of the clothes in the washing machine, saving time and energy to do the other chores.

Their washing machine has been broken for almost a year now, however. Hopeless of repair. He knew that, it was his repairs that kept that piece of junk working for three years when it started stumpling.

Huey sighed, making a quick pause to clean his forehead with his arm. At least, with his next month’s salary he’d finally have saved enough money to buy a new one. That thought brought a  thin smile to his beak.

A smile that quickly disappeared when the loud sound of something breaking followed by a distraugh cry reached his ears.

Fast and instinctively, Huey found himself arriving the twins’ room in a rush, already searching for his 6 year old kids and their possible injuries. He found Donald at one side of the small room, hugging his toy guitar protectively while narrowing his eyes at Della. Who, by her turn, had a hold on her own leg and seemed about to cry.

“You did it on purpouse!!” Donald accused. He sounded really angry.

“I did not, I promise!” Della tried to defend, but the boy didn’t look convinced.

“What’s going on in here?” Huey questioned, attracting the kids’ attention.

Donald didn’t wait a second to point at his sister accusingly, “Uncle Huey, Della broke my guitar!”

“It was an accident!”

He didn’t listen, however, running at his uncle to show him the damage done on his favorite toy. Huey tried to hold back a grimace. The guitar had been shattered right in the middle, both parts remaning having wrecked spots, and the fake strings were completely ruined. Huey could try to put it back together, but it surely was destroyed.

“I’m sorry...” Della sniffed.

“Sorry won’t fix my guitar, Dumbella!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Kids,” Huey’s tone was just firm enough to make them stop. He, then, looked at Della. “How did this happen?”

The girl lowered her gaze, looking a bit ashamed of what she was about to reveal.

“I... I was jumpin’ on my bed, and then- then I fell. On Donald’s guitar.”

Huey’s expression cleared with understandment at the same time he frowned. That explained a lot. That’s also why he’s always telling the kids not to jump on their beds. So they could avoid moments like Della holding on her leg above the knee right now.

“And you got hurt,” Huey concluded.

Della avoided his gaze again, “A little...”

Huey sighed deeply, closing his eyes for one moment to form a plan in his head.

“Let’s do it this way: Della, come with me to the bathroom, I’ll take care of your leg. Donald, go to the kitchen and leave your guitar on the balcony, later we’ll try to piece it back together. Is that alright?”

“Yes, Uncle Huey,” the twins echoed together, knowing they didn’t have much choice anyways.

However, Donald was still mad enough to utter one more question when his sister approached them to follow their uncle out of the room.

“But Della’s in trouble, right??”

“No, Donald,” Huey shook his head, explaining in the most calm way he could. “Della didn’t want to break your guitar, it was an accident,” he moved his eyes to his niece. “That doesn’t mean we’re not talking about you jumping on the bed, young lady.”

Della didn’t say anything, she saw that coming from the moment she misplaced her foot in that last jump.

Donald huffed, but he guessed that would have to do. It’s not that he didn’t know his uncle was right, it’s just... Donald really loved his guitar. His little heart ached and he pounted as he looked once again to the broken instrument in his hands.

That didn’t pass unnoticed by his family.

Della finally spoke again, “I’m really, really sorry, Don.”

Donald lifted his eyes at his sister, his anger fadded enough to let him see the truth in her words. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘it’s fine’, because it wasn’t, but he nodded. That was enough to relax Della a little.

Huey wasn’t worried by that, though. He knew his kids, Donald and Della were an inseparable set, it’d need a lot more than a broken toy to tear them apart, even with said toy being so important to Donald.

It was the loss of the toy that worry the red duck. Huey couldn’t remember his nephew being happier about a gift than the afternoon he gave him that toy guitar, and Donald’s interest in music has been only growing since then. The little boy surely had an artistic vein... Just like-

No. He was not going to make that connection. Donald’s interests were Donald’s, just like Della liking planes was her own thing. What Huey needed right now was to think how to bring back the smile his nephew had with the now destroied guitar.

-------------------------

Two months later:

“WOOOAH!” Both twins gasped, their eyes shining as bright as starts as they each looked at their birthday gifts.

“PILOT GOGGLES AND HAT!” Della exclaimed, Holding her gift up in excitement. “Now I can be a real pilor when I play with my planes! Thanks Uncle Huey!” she ran at her uncle and hugged him.

“You’re welcome, Delly,” Huey just had time to ruff her hair a bit before the little ball of energy ran away, looking for a mirror to see herself with those hat and goggles.

Huey chuckled, but soon the sound of musical notes being shyly played made him turn around to Donald. The little duckling had got the guitar in his tiny hands, the instrument stil a bit big to him, but he could reach the strings just fine. It wasn’t a brand new one, Huey had no conditions to buy one like that, sadly, but he did go around all Duckburg until he found the best used guitar he could have.

Donald really loved music, Huey could see that, he didn’t want to play with a toy only. He wanted to play music. So he needed a-

“A real guitar...?”

Donald lifted his eyes to his uncle with a shocked face, and Huey couldn’t help a smile.

“Do you like it?”

“If I like it?! I LOVE IT!” he jumped up, not bothering on putting the instrument down before giving his uncle a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” the hug was broken, but Donald’s face was still bright. “Now I can make my own songs! I’ll be famous! Della, c’mere, I need to play you something!” and he was gone after his sister.

Huey could just laugh, a warm feeing in his heart. Those smiles were worthy some months more washing clothes by himself.