Ooh, here's another idea; you comforting little E and soothing him/helping him feel better when he has a tummy ache from eating too many fried PB, bacon and banana sandwiches?
You burst through the front door of Graceland after getting a call from your sister who was babysitting little E while having a song writing session of her own while you had been out shopping. The call had been a bit frantic and that concerned you because usually Elvis surprisingly didn't have any separation anxiety when it comes to you if you leave him with your sister. Elvis loved her.
But apparently he had been crying and screaming for mama because he over ate his favorite PB&B&B sandwiches again and because you know for a fact your sister spoiled him and let him have way too much again.
While on the call you couldn't hear your sister explaining very well because Elvis, with the volume he has was screaming for his mama so in the end you just asked if she would give the phone to E so you could see if that would help. \
"M-m-mama." He sobbed over the line. Your heart broke at his sobs and you didn't care how insane you looked, putting on your baby voice immediately in the middle of this department store. "Hi lovie. What's wrong?" Through Elvis's sobs you could make out him saying, "Mama, owie, it's owie." Hearing him in pain, you immediately left the store and fast walked it to the pink Cadillac. "What's owie baby?" You made sure speak low and slower than usual hoping your voice was the most comforting. He was talking to mama so that helped even just a little bit. "T-T-tummy mama. I's owie." You nod. "Did Thea let you eat too many sweets?"
You knew your sister couldn't resist those blue sleepy puppy eyes of his. "Nana mama." Elvis said pitifully. That clued you in that he had Mary prepare him a platter of his favorite signature Peanut butter, bacon and banana sandwiches. "Alright sweetheart, mama's on her way, mama will fix you up. How many did you have this time?" Silence on the line except for Elvis's dismal cries. "You can tell me baby, mama won't be mad."
It takes him a minute before he finally admits the answer. "Had three mama." Your eyes go round in a bit of shock. Of course he could put away three but you didn't expect him to eat that many in one go. You had underestimated him obviously and now he was going to be sick all night, thanks Thea.
So that's how you came to running home to your baby and bursting through the front door of Graceland to see your sister sitting on the couch with Elvis curled up, arms wrapped around his stomach and his head in her lap while she shushed his woeful cries and played with his hair like he likes and telling him mama will be home soon.
"What's going on?" You ask to announce your presence. Your sister smiles at you apologetically while Elvis just bursts into another round of tears. But this time they're from relief that his number one girl is here to comfort his aching tummy.
"Mama!" Elvis moans at you. You smile sadly. "What are we gonna do with you, sweet boy." As you sit on the other end of the couch, Elvis immediately switches from curling in Thea's lap to yours, of course wanting his mama. "I'm sorry." Your sister whispers. You nod, rubbing Elvis's back under his shirt. "This isn't the first time he's done this..." You turn your attention to Elvis who's playing with your fingers on your other hand trying to self soothe. "Huh baby? This isn't the first time you've eaten too much, hmm?" Elvis stays silent, his ears going rosy with a bit of embarrassment.
You sister lets herself out and Elvis stretches his long legs out on the couch, turning his face into you, groaning. "Mama ooooooowie." You nod. "Do you feel pukey baby? Because if you do we need to get far from this couch." You say, eyeing this horrible white couch. Why Elvis chose all white you had no idea. He was weird like that.
He groaned again, shaking his head, pulling your hand open so he can intently examine your wedding and engagement set of rings on your finger. "No, just 'urts." He mumbles. You don't understand why he's eyeing the rings when he picked them out himself and knew exactly what he gave you but you realize after a few minutes he's studying them so that he can focus on something else rather than the pain in his stomach. At least it calmed him down a bit and he's not actively sobbing anymore.
You stroke his hair, placing strands of it behind his ears. "How about this, we go upstairs, get a show on and mama will give you a tummy rub, how does that sound?" He nods, he knows you'll take care of him so anything you suggest he's down to do. "Mmhm." You rub his face affectionately as he looks up at you, loving that you're playing with his hair so much. If his stomach wasn't sore he would be in heaven. "Getting sleepy baby?" You ask. He just shrugs best he can while partially laying on you.
Laying in bed you dutifully become the big spoon so he can feel small. "C'mere you." You pull him back and curl your body around his, pulling his shirt up a little bit so that you have access to his stomach and start kneading your fingers into it, kissing his shoulder.
Elvis sighs into relief, finally closing his eyes. "Missed you." He murmurs. "I missed you too, but mama always comes back." "Yeah..." He whispers and eventually he falls to sleep, finally getting relief. Will he do this again? Probably. It's a cycle
I didn't know how to end this one and I probably went off on some tangents within this but I liked it. I hope you liked this one too <3