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“Dad, this is going to end horribly.”
“No it won’t, just trust me.”
Telemachus scoffs in amusement and disbelief. He’s certain this is how he’s going to end up accidentally killing his father.
“I’m like, 130lbs. I’m gonna fall and crush you,” Telemachus complains, watching his dad lay on the ground.
It’s Odysseus’ turn to scoff.
“Oh, please. You really don’t have faith in your dear old dad? I went to war, I spent 20 years at sea, and you still think I’m not that strong? I’m hurt, son,” He says dramatically.
Telemachus rolls his eyes with the attitude of a teenager, before carefully laying across his dad’s outstretched hands. With one of Odysseus’ hands on the middle of his back and one just above the back of his knees, he feels surprisingly stable, despite being horizontal in the air. It’s horribly embarrassing, being a human bench bar, but he must admit it’s sort of fun.
“You need to eat more, Telemachus. This is too easy,” Odysseus chides.
“You lie. This cannot be easy for you,” Telemachus whines, but Odysseus really isn’t exaggerating. He’s done 15 reps already and hasn’t faltered at all, much less even broken a sweat.
“I would never lie to you; you’re light as a feather, my boy.”
Telemachus laughs. When he envisioned father-son bonding time, he didn’t think his dad would be using him as an exercise weight, but as stupid as it is, he enjoys it. It’s fun.
Odysseus tosses him in the air and catches him, continuing his set. Telemachus has to force himself not to flail so his dad doesn’t drop him.
“Gods above, don’t
throw me
!” He exclaims. His father just laughs.