“Doorbell!” Tae sung as he jumped off my lap and took off down the hall.
“No running!” My words fell on deaf ears as he beat me to the door. Pizza clearly came before Daddy or the rules.
“Pizza, Daddy,” he sung as he skipped by me with the boxes, like that erased his wrongdoing. Good thing we tip online now, or the poor driver would’ve left with nothing but my silly boy’s smile. Hopefully he hadn’t slammed the door in their face.
“There should be enough leftovers for your lunch tomorrow. Oscar and I will be at the Tetleys this week working on their projects. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself?” I worried. I knew he wouldn’t use the stove after the great mac ‘n cheese inferno a couple of years back, but I was used to having my boy by my side nearly twenty-four hours a day. Huh, maybe I was more worried about me than him.
Separation anxiety much, Chuck?
“Yes, Daddy, and I promise to only use the microwave. Will you leave me milkies?” He wiggled and dipped his breadstick, and his fingers, into the marinara sauce then sucked them clean. Entertainment or gross? Funny how much those two lines crossed and always ended with a necessary bath.
“There are a couple of bottles in the freezer I’ll pull out for you in the morning.” I started cleaning up while he finished eating and meal prepped his lunch for tomorrow. Nice and easy in a microwave safe container. It wasn’t that my boy lacked the ability to do more than microwave, it was that he lacked the attention span. Amazing, considering how when it came to his art he’d focus on it for hours on end. At times to his own detriment.
“All done,” Tae announced, throwing his arms in the air.
“Yes, and in need of tubby time.”
“Yay! Tubby time.”
I wiped him down, mostly to keep the house safe from a cheesy marinara bomb in the form of my boy while I got the tub filled. Tae dumped his bag of water toys in, stripped down, and cheered for himself as he shot hoops with his clothes into the laundry basket.
“Alright, Messy Boy, let’s get you into the tub.”
While Tae played, I locked the doors and turned off the lights. When I came back in, his boats were moving slower and his yawns were coming faster. “Let’s wash you up.”
“’Kay, Daddy.”
Yup, no argument from my sleepy boy for more playtime. His eyes closed and his head grew heavy as I shampooed his curls. He barely moved when I ran the sponge over his body. “Let’s get you dried and dressed, then bedtime.”
“Daddy milky.”
“Yes, you can nurse.” Though I was certain he’d be asleep the moment he latched on.
Into a pull-up and a onesie, I got him dressed and tucked in with Stitch and LJ while I took a quick shower. When I slid in behind him, he turned and snuggled in to nurse. Thankful for the relief, as it eased the pressure in my chest, I dozed right off with my boy.
7
TAE
Sneaky Daddy kept trying to peek inside my room.
Can you ground your Daddy for being naughty?
Maybe spank him?
Nah, he might like it.
I was a couple weeks into my playroom project, and my vision was finally coming to life. Daddy and Oscar brought in Oscar’s friend Trey to help with a couple of the painting jobs I’d normally have worked with them on so I could focus on my room. I felt bad but Daddy told me not to worry about it because they were thinking of hiring Trey full-time anyway. It just didn’t seem fair that I still got paid even when I wasn’t physically working. Perks of being an owner, Oscar teased but it still didn’t feel right.
Momma called and asked a bunch of wedding questions about colors and what we were wearing and stuff like that. Daddy and I decided on jeans and matching blue button-up shirts, but he promised I could change into play clothes right after. Heand Oscar had been working on building the arch thingy in the backyard for the wedding. I guess we were all busy getting ready for the big day, just in different ways.
Daddy asked if I was upset that Momma was doing most of the wedding stuff, but I honestly wasn’t. I loved surprises, and to me this would be the best one of all, plus I had zero clues where to even start.
A surprise wedding, ha.
Daddy and I had to go to the courthouse to get our license, which I wasn’t thrilled about. Anything anywhere near a courthouse gave me hives, but this was good and important instead of my previous bad visits there. Momma had booked the minister, and said she’d order the cake in my favorite flavors, double chocolate with raspberries. Yum!
So, cake, license, minister, arch thingy—what else was there?
