Bilbo swore as he accidentally cut his hand while running a cleaning cloth over the sword he begot from his journey with Gandalf and the Dwarves, Sting. Luckily, the small cut was not deep enough to warrant a summons for the healer or suturing, however the incident got him to thinking about child-proofing Bag End. What if it had been Frodo who had been cut?

Bilbo’s increasing worries that some ill would befall his nephew while living with him grew until he couldn’t take it anymore and he sought out the wisdom of Bell Gamgee, mother of six.

Bell laughed. “Nonsense, Mr. Bilbo, sir! I don’t expect Bag End has changed all that much since you were a lad growing up there, now has it?”

Bilbo thought about this for a moment. “Well no, I suppose it hasn’t. But I've made sure any medicines I have are locked away safely, as are the Old Wineyards and ale. But what if I’ve overlooked something?” he fretted.

Bell refreshed the cup of tea the Master was sipping before sitting down opposite him at the kitchen table of Number 3. In the corner, her youngest child of six--five-year old Marigold--played quietly with her rag doll.

“Mr. Bilbo, ye can do all the preparin’ in the world, but when it comes to raisin’ a child--especially a tween--ye cannot foresee everythin’ that might happen.

"Take yer fancy sword, for example. Nows ye can do one of two things with it--ye can either hide it away and hope the young Master don’t go explorin’ an’ hurt himself when he finds it. Or, ye can leave that sword right where it ‘tis an’ set some ground rules about the handlin’ of it, like he can only look at it if yer home and give him permission. Besides, hasn’t Master Frodo been in Bag End before with that sword hangin’ on the wall?”

Bilbo frowned, not having made this obvious realization himself. “Well, yes he has. …. I’m a ninnyhammer as Master Hamfast would say. Frodo has seen Sting before and has never looked closely at it without my express permission. Of course, he was not of a height to even reach it over the mantel … but he will be one day.”

“And ‘tis going to be yer job to make sure he continues to do as he’s told, even if he grows to be bigger than ye,” Bell affirmed sternly. She continued in a softer tone, laying a hand on the Master’s forearm. “Ye’ll be a fine parent, sir. Make no doubt about it. It’s when ye stop worryin’ so that ye should wonder. Ye cannot watch over them every minute of the day for their whole lives, but ye will never stop carin' 'bout them all the same.

“Why, I’m sure Mrs. Belladonna never stopped worryin’ about ye after ye came of age.”

This brought a small smile to Bilbo’s face. “No, she didn’t,” he said fondly of his mother. He watched Marigold playing as he finished his tea, thanked Bell for her sage advice and hospitality, and headed back up The Hill, his mind greatly eased.

* * * * *