Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Are you hungry?” I wasn’t surprised when he started with a shake of his head but ended with a shrug.
He’d eaten plenty, but it seemed like he had a snack-shaped hole in his stomach somewhere.
“I have a surprise you might like.” It wasn’t technically something I’d call a snack but I thought he might be curious to try it at the very least.
“Nuggets?” His guess came with an innocent expression that wasn’t believable because it only lasted about three seconds before his delight started all over again. “Nuggets.”
He thought he was hilarious which actually was funny and ended up making me laugh. “Silly goose.”
That was funny too but not enough to distract him because as soon as we made it to my living room, he looked around like a bloodhound that had caught a good scent. “Where?”
Ah.
“My room. Is it okay if we go there?” I wasn’t sure how careful to be with him, but it couldn’t hurt to keep checking in. “What color is going to my room?”
His eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands together like he was a greedy little pirate. “Green.”
I wasn’t sure laughter was appropriate but it was hard to hold back completely. “Then let’s go because I’m green too.”
“Yes.” Doing an excited little hop, he looked like he was ready to run to the bedroom. “Colors too.”
“Yes, everyone gets colors and needs to say how they’re feeling.” I remembered the first part but the second was probably my weakness. “How are you feeling?”
“’Cited.” His happy dance wiggles seemed to be wearing him out because he tried to hide a yawn. “’Wake.”
Awake, huh?
“Then let’s go see what I’ve got because I’m excited too.” And a confusing mix of other things I wasn’t sure we needed to go into. “Very excited.”
Yep, that was my story and I was sticking to it.
Chapter 9
Orlando
Stuff.
Stuff.
Green.
Green.
Stuff.
Stuff.
Green.
Green.
“’Cited.” Yes. Not sleepy. No sleepies. “’Cited.”
“Excited, yes.” Daddy Bastian was trying not to smile and looked silly. “But if you get nervous or upset, what do you say?”
“My colors.” Swinging Daddy Bastian’s hand, I nodded bigger and bigger. “I got colors. You got colors.”
“That’s right.” Daddy Bastian squeezed my hand. “And I know to use them if I get nervous or upset.”
Everybody got colors.
Everybody got ’motions.
“Good boy.” I was a good boy and Daddy Bastian was a good boy too. “Good boy.”
Daddy Bastian nodded but he got distracted. “Okay, up on the bed or in the chair?”
“Bed.” Run. Run. Run. Jump. “Big bed.”
Daddy Bastian had a big, big bed and squishy pillows and was soft, soft.
“Bounce.” Flop. “Fish.”
Daddy Bastian laughed. “You look like a dead fish flopping around on the ground.”
Yep.
Fishy lips.
Daddy Bastian laughed. “I can’t decide if that’s funny or creepy.”
One fish.
Two fish.
Floppy fish.
Dead fish.
“Creepy. It’s creepy. There’s no question.” Daddy Bastian sighed and grumbled and tried to make his dead fish laugh but I was a good dead fish. “Very creepy.”
Ugh.
He made me a silly fish and he laughed when I giggled. “Dead fish are creepy, Trippy.”
I was a good dead fish but I sat up and looked around. “Presents?”
I needed my presents.
Daddy Bastian laughed. “That’s much better. Dead fish reminds me of that trip I had to take with your uncles as a teenager. That was terrible.”
Fishing.
I giggled. “No fishing.”
I grabbed my tummy and groaned like a TV man. “Ohhh…got the poops…oh…”
Daddy Bastian laughed and laughed as he waved his hand. “That’s…that’s why your mother thinks you have a weak stomach?”
Good TV man.
Nodding, I pouted and sighed. “Sorry. No fishes. Oh no.”
Finding fishes was boring and long and men were nosy.
Daddy Bastian smiled and shook his head. “That’s brilliant.”
He pretended to frown as he went over and got a big brown box out of the closet like the Amazon man had brought me special presents. “You realize your mother thought you were allergic to weird shit as a teenager, right?”
I shrugged. “No bread! No rice! No ’tatoes!”
Oh well.
Shaking his head, Daddy Bastian made another silly sound. “I guess that’s a reasonable trade-off for not having to go on those trips. Your uncles wanted to talk about who I was dating and what I thought of that weird girl down the street who was always spying on everyone.”
Naughty men.
Nosy men.
Stupid men.
“Naughty girl.” I shrugged as Daddy Bastian brought my box over. “Girl in jail.”
Daddy Bastian sighed. “Your family has terrible taste in women, but I’m not going to be the one to point that out at family dinner. So we’re just going to keep that to ourselves.”
Nodding, I sat up on my knees and wiggled for my box. “Shh…”
“Oh yeah.” Daddy Bastian gave a big Daddy kind of smile. “I’m also not going to point out that you still look like a puppy.”
Wiggly butts.
“You’re lucky, though, littles are cuter than pups.” Daddy Bastian put my box on the bed. “Which is why I have fun stuff for a cute boy.”