Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to be mad about that? Kneelingbeside her, I take the Sharpie from her hand and place the cap back on it, keeping my movements gentle but firm.
“Reece, I love your artwork, but you can’t write on the walls.”
She lets out a harrumph like an old man. “Well, nobody ever toldmethat.”
Swear to god, I’m trying not to laugh, which is honestly one of the hardest things about parenting—maintaining a stern demeanor in the face of extreme cuteness.
“I’m telling you now. If you want to write or draw something for Daddy, you have lots of paper in your desk in every color of the rainbow.” I gesture toward the wall. “I can’t take that to work with me and put it on my desk, can I?”
Her eyebrows scrunch together in thought. “I guess not.” With blue eyes that match my own, she does that little puppy dog thing, her voice pitching up. “Are you mad at me?”
I sigh and admit, “I’m a little annoyed, but you’re still my favorite person in the whole world, okay?”
Her sweet face manages to look chagrined. “It’s okay to be annoyed, Daddy. I get annoyed with you when you only let me have one scoop of ice cream.”
“That’s fair,” I tell her, letting out a little chuckle before kissing her forehead. “Now go downstairs and eat your breakfast.”
She throws her chubby arms around my neck, and I close my eyes, inhaling her bubblegum scent. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I love you muchly.”
A single hug from my little girl is enough to wash away any annoyance I may have been feeling. At this point, she could spray paint the entire damn house, and I’d be cool with it.
“I love you muchly too, Reecie. Go eat your oatmeal before it gets cold.”
Once she scampers downstairs, I go to the upstairs utility closet and pull out the cleaning spray and a cloth. But when I return to my room, I stare at my child’s drawing and the sweet message beneath.
And I can’t do it. I can’t clean it off.
Exhaling hard, I set down the cleaning supplies and rearrange the furniture a bit, moving the black nightstand over to cover the evidence before also shifting the bed to center things up. I stand back and lookat my handiwork. There’s no visible evidence of my little graffiti artist’s work, but I know it’s there, and I can easily move the nightstand to look at it whenever I want.
By the time I get downstairs, Reece is eating her oatmeal and strawberries at the small table in the breakfast nook. Since I’m now running behind, I toss a frozen breakfast burrito into the microwave.
“Is it Monday?” Reece asks as I pull the steaming burrito from the microwave.
“It is,” I agree, pouring some coffee into a travel mug.
“Yay! It’s our date night,” she cheers. “Can we go to The Steamy Crab?”
It’s one of her favorite restaurants, one of those that serves seafood steamed in a large bag. I walk over to sit in the wooden chair next to my daughter.
“Sounds good to me.”
“I wouldn’t sit there, Daddy,” she says at the same time I feel wetness seeping through my pants. “I spilled my apple juice. And maybe a little honey.”
Grimacing, I stand, dripping sticky honey and juice from my ass. “Thanks for the heads up,” I tell her, but she doesn’t seem to get my sarcasm.
“You’re welcome.”
A lovely voice comes from behind me. “Well, looks like someone had a little accident this morning.” I turn to find Lorraine Moore, Reece’s nanny, standing there with an amused look on her face.
“It appears so,” I grumble.
Lorraine is the picture of efficiency, setting down her embroidered bag and grabbing a dish towel. “Go change your clothes. I’ll tidy up things here.”
I take the towel and hold it across my butt to minimize the syrupy trail as I sprint up the stairs and to my bedroom. Once I’ve wiped off the gunk and exchanged my soiled black suit for a dark-blue one, I head back down to find the kitchen in perfect condition and Lorraine cleaning Reece’s face with a baby wipe.
“You’re a lifesaver, Lorraine,” I gush, kissing the older woman on the cheek.
She blushes and hands me my coffee. “My pleasure. Now go on to work before you get fired.” I laugh because I’m now the head of marketing at Hale Cosmetics, and the only person that could fire me would be the CEO. Who happens to be my dad.
