Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Good grief.
“No, you were helping me to realize I was being mean.” And as far as getting back at me went, it was creative and had made it’s point without going overboard. “Gary especially is excited to meet you. He’s completely taken over the kitchen and is being a pain in the butt about it.”
That got a giggle from Chipmunk. “You made cake with me.”
“We made a wonderful cake together and doing it over here meant I didn’t have to argue with Gary about using the kitchen.” We’d needed to get creative when it came to pans, but a cake with one square tier and one round tier had come out better than I’d expected. “We did great.”
Chipmunk didn’t like cooking but he loved decorating.
And it seemed like the reminder of our creation was enough to have him sitting up and forgetting his panic.
“It’s pretty.” Bouncing on the edge of the bed, he gave me a beaming smile. “It’s got Santa.”
And reindeer and a Christmas tree too.
“It’s the perfect cake, so we have to take it over there and brag about it.” I shrugged as he giggled. “I have to brag. I’ve got the perfect cake and the perfect boyfriend.”
Chipmunk’s giggle said we were still on the right track. “I was sneaky.”
“You were smart.” I huffed and kissed his forehead. “Don’t talk bad about my boy.”
Shoulders shaking with silent laughter, Chipmunk nodded and tried to look serious. “Yes, I was smart and naughty.”
Someone wanted more attention.
Frowning again, I sighed and gave him cheek kisses. “Be nice to my boy. He’s cute and funny.”
And devious.
“Oh, I’m not smart.” He shook his head and pouted. “I forgot.”
He was going to keep going if we didn’t shift things up.
“Oh dear.” Leaning in like I was going to give him another kiss, I made him squeal as I tickled him instead, digging my fingers into his ribs. “I remember all kinds of things, like how cute my boy is when he laughs.”
His squeals filled the house, and once again, I had to admit how great it was to have privacy from roommates. “I…I’m you’re…I’m…”
Torturing him for a few more seconds, I finally stopped tickling him and chuckled as he flopped on the bed, exhausted and boneless like I’d just made him come. “I’m you’re good boy, Daddy.”
“Are you sure? Are you my smart boy and my sweet boy?” I could see him trying to decide what answer to give, so I frowned and let out a long breath. “It would be sad if you couldn’t have cake.”
“Oh.” The wheels started turning faster as he sat up again and kissed my cheek. “I’m a good boy. Good boys get cake.”
“Especially pretty cake.” It looked amazing and was going to be the best dish there. Between the decoration and the fluffy white frosting with coconut it looked like Santa was hanging out at the North Pole. “Are you ready to go pretend to be humble when everyone says it’s beautiful?”
Nodding excitedly, he gave me a sweet, shy smile. “Oh, thank you. We just wanted to make something fun. Do you really like it?”
As I laughed, Chipmunk looked pleased with himself and started giggling again. “And we’re gonna get presents.”
“That’s right.” And we were going to cause some chaos too. “Let’s go. I’m ready for dinner.”
“And presents and dessert, Daddy.” Popping off the bed, he looked around. “My specials. Where did they go?”
“Downstairs.” I’d moved them after the second round of wrapping when he’d started studying them like we needed to try again. “They’re all ready for us.”
Oh, he had that look.
“Do you want to carry the bag of presents while I carry the cake?” The question was thankfully just distracting enough that he stopped thinking about rewrapping the damned things.
“Yes.” Rocking back and forth on his toes, he was vibrating with excitement. “I’ll be careful.”
“I know you will.” But since nothing was breakable, I wasn’t worried. “Alright. Let’s get your shoes on and go get food.”
“’Sagna and noodles and bread.” Rubbing his hands together like a greedy old fart ready to dive into his money, Chipmunk did a happy dance wiggle. “Gonna get yummies.”
No one wanted Thanksgiving stuff again and their families were going to be doing more traditional Christmas food like ham, so we’d decided to go the Italian route and do a big carb fest. We were all going to roll to bed and sleep for a week after all the lasagna we were going to eat, but it was going to be worth it.
“Remember to save room for dessert.” Taking his hand, I led him downstairs to keep us moving. “What do you think Dante is making?”
Giggling, Chipmunk thought that was a hilarious question. “Mac-n-cheese.”
It seemed to be Ruslan’s favorite food, so I nodded and laughed too. “What kind? He’s got lots of recipes.”