Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
So that was a good way for my little boy to have fun?
“I think it sounds perfect.” And I couldn’t see any stressors in that plan either. “What kind of treat should we have? Popcorn while we read a book? Cookies?”
I wasn’t sure what we had, but there were definitely options. I was a snacker, so there were always options.
But Stirling was not the same kind of random eater that I was. For him, it had to be what he was passionate about at the moment, but he’d never let himself indulge in anything little related. Hell, we didn’t even keep kid cookies in the house…just the expensive ones.
“Hmm?” Giving himself a shake as he flushed, Stirling started wandering in small circles around the bathroom. It was definitely going to end up being his helper thinking face, so I let him be adorable and turned on the water.
As I got everything ready, he made more thinking sounds before giving me a big shrug. “We don’t got it.”
What didn’t we have?
“What kind of snack were you thinking about? Is it something we can bake?” Helper or grown-up, baking would be something he liked.
“No.” The overly casual way he waved his hands as he watched the soap start to bubble wasn’t believable at all. “But that’s okay. We can have cookies.”
It was getting more and more unbelievable every time he opened his mouth.
“Well, I guess if Santa’s helper doesn’t want to tell him, then that’s okay.” It was my turn to shrug and act like it didn’t matter. I wasn’t any more believable than he was, but I hadn’t tried very hard. “We can do cookies. I like cookies.”
Sighing, I pouted slightly and just watched the bubbles continue to build. “But it’s sad I won’t get the chance to try to make my helper happy.”
Guilt was a wonderful thing.
“Oh.” Rocking back and forth on his toes, he swung his arms and sighed. “I guess I have to let you try. You’re Santa. That’s what you do.”
Hopefully.
“Yes, trying would make me happy.” I really hoped it would make us both happy and he wasn’t going to ask for something ridiculous.
“Making you happy would make me a good helper.” He was stretching out the problem, but he wasn’t upset and he hadn’t lost his headspace.
I could only assume it was something he wasn’t ready to ask for and was working up the nerve. It made me incredibly curious, but I did my best not to show it as I went to grab a washcloth in the small linen closet.
By the time I walked back over to the tub, the water was high enough for him to get in and it’d seemed like he’d figured out what he wanted. He didn’t volunteer it right away, but as I took his hand, I could feel him relaxing. “Careful. Santa will not be happy if you fall.”
“It was only once, Santa.” Rolling his eyes as he sat down in an exaggeratedly careful manner, he sighed as I scoffed. “Two times.”
Three.
It’d been at least three.
It was why he wasn’t allowed to shower by himself when he was distracted or even tipsy.
“Thank you for being careful.” Sitting down beside the tub, I suds up the bubbles with my hand before mounding some of the froth on his head. “Now you look old too.”
He snickered but shook his head. “No, Santa just has white hair.”
I’d take that logic.
I had plans to talk about it for long enough to distract him too, but he jumped back to the snack conversation before I could get started.
“Goldfish, Santa.” He paused for a second and then seemed to decide he hadn’t given me enough information. “For my treat. We don’t got that stuff.”
Making an exaggerated thinking face, I nodded. “Yes, I don’t have cheese fish. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them in the meat department.”
Stirling couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes again, so he settled on a slightly frustrated sigh like I’d told a bad Dad joke. “Santa…that’s silly.”
“I like being silly.” Giving him a beard proved that. “But I’m special and very smart. So I can make cheese fish appear.”
Shifting so I could pull out my phone, I chuckled as his mouth dropped open. “Santa, we don’t do that. We’re not lazy. We buy our own groceries so the stupid people don’t get it wrong.”
One time.
I complained about the asshole delivery guy one time and he was going to make sure I remembered it for the rest of our lives.
“But you’re more important than laziness or stupid people.” Or people who deliberately managed to get every item wrong.
Every item.
“Aww.” Leaning over and getting bubbles everywhere, he kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Santa.”
Ignoring the mess and his blatant manipulation, I smiled. “What kind of goldfish do we want? I’m really hoping you mean crackers.”