“Uncle Groffee is bigger than you, andheishulaing,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Sure am, Princess Bella,” I warmly concur prior to pulling on a green colored loincloth. “I’m even wearin’ amalo.”
“Daddy, you wear one too,” instructs the little handful dressed in a red and white swimsuit that reminds me of peppermints.
And I’m pretty sure that’s probably the point.
Her mom – technically stepmom but the only mom that has ever and will ever matter – Joey Alexeyev is obsessed with Christmas.
She even comes to me when she wants to mix up her holiday themed playlist.
James Brown’s “Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto” was a huge hit for her last year while The Ramones “Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight)” became Bella’s dailymustanthem,something Cap creatively punished me for by blaring it near my ear whenever I managed to drift off to sleep on our plane.
How was I supposed to know she was gonna turn into a little punk rocker who thenonlywanted to hear that band night and day?
Though they do have some bangers.
“Nyet,” huffs Cap, arms folding firmly across his chest. “Vot gde ya provozhu chertu.”
“Is it?” Joey teasingly inquires while Gilly helps straighten my accessories. “Is thatreallywhere you draw the line?” Her curvaceous frame arrives into the space between me and Bella. “Youreallywon’t wear a man skirt for your little hatchling?”
“Joeski…” he whines, melting for his Slayer the same way we all melt for our own.
That’swhythey call them Slayers.
They’re the only ones who can always successfully take us down.
“He need the same size like Uncle Groffee,” Bella informs Courtney during her wiggle on of the tiny grass skirt. The second it’s in place, she pridefully spins around in front of me and asks, “Pretty, Uncle Groffee?”
“Absolutely.” Squatting down to be closer to eye-level occurs to the sounds of Cap grumbling his displeasure. “You are the second prettiest lil’ lady on this side of the big muddy.”
“Second?!” she scoffs in obvious outrage.
“Only to my Gillybean,” I casually retort with a small finger point in her direction.
“Her name’s Gillybean?!”
“Gillian,” corrects my date at the same time she joins me in the lower position. “But you can call me Gilly.” She offers our team’s honorary niece her open palm for shaking. “AndI thinkthatyouare definitely the prettiest little lady here.”
“I think so too,” agrees Bella as they shake.
“Bella,” scolds her mom alongside wriggling on the wrist accessories.
“I mean…” her bright blues execute a roll, “spasibo.”
All smiles.
All attitude.
All loveable.
Can’t lie.
She’s always had this way of making me want my own.
And now that I’ve found the one woman I’mma have ‘em with…wonder how soon is too soon to bring the subject up.
“Joey,” Cap’s wife introduces upon us returning upright.
