“I am so proud of you, pup,” I said.
“Can I have a treat?”
Wen and I answered at the same time. “No.”
Killian’s face fell. “Boo.”
We walked back to our family quarters together, Killian between us holding both our hands and chattering about everything he’dlearned. Kingdom names, proper forms of address, the history of the alliance. For a four-year-old, he was remarkably bright.
“And Instructor Delphine says I’m the best at remembering things,” Killian announced proudly. “Except numbers, maybe.”
“Is that so?” Wen asked, squeezing his hand.
“Yes! She said my brain is like a... a... what’s the word? A sponge!”
“That sounds right,” I said. “You do absorb information very quickly.”
“What’s absorb?”
“It means you learn fast.”
“Oh.” He considered this. “I AM fast. I’m fast at running AND at learning!”
“Very fast,” Wen agreed.
After we’d reviewed his lessons and celebrated his success with appropriate parental enthusiasm, which included Killian performing the kingdom names three more times because he was proud of himself, it was time for the nightly battle.
“Bath time, Killian,” Wen announced.
“NO!”
And we were off.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “You need to bathe.”
“I’m clean!” He was already backing toward the door.
Wen stepped to block his escape route. “You have mud on your face.”
“It’s make up!”
“Nice try. Bath. Now.”
Killian made a break for it, diving under my arm and racing toward his bedroom. “You can’t catch me!”
“We absolutely can!” Wen called, and the chase was on.
He ducked behind furniture. He crawled under his bed. He attempted to hide behind a curtain, forgetting that his feet were still visible. It took both of us working in coordinated tandem to corner him at the foot of his bed, and even then he made two more escape attempts before we caught him.
Years of practice had made us experts at small-child-wrangling. It was perhaps the most useful skill I’d developed in my centuries of existence.
“Fine,” Killian said, pouting dramatically. “But QUICK bath.”
“Deal,” I agreed. He always asked for the same thing. “Quick bath, then story.”
Bath time was, as always, complete chaos.
“Killian, stop splashing,” Wen said as water went everywhere.
