Page 44 of Viking Ink

Rhys looked at them critically, his pacifier in the corner of his mouth as he thought. He nodded to himself as he spoke: “Zoo.”

My god, he was so cute, his eyes shining with contentment and hair all mussed.

“Oh, fun. Do we need to build fences for the animals?”

Rhys tilted his head and eyed his blocks. Nodding thoughtfully, he pointed to the green blocks. “Dem first.” He patted a spot on the rug. “Here.”

I eagerly crawled around, following my boy’s instructions till we had three enclosures built with his animals inside. Rhys let out a contented huff and moved his elephants around their pen. I noticed he was wiggling his bottom a lot more, his brow pinched.

“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” I had a suspicion, but I wanted Rhys to tell me. I wanted to encourage him to tell Daddy when he needed something.

Rhys wiggled again and let out a soft whimper.

“Baby boy, you need to tell Daddy if you need something.” I reached out and ran my hand down Rhys’s back, offering comfort through touch.

There was an audible pop as his dummy was spat from his mouth. “Need pee, Daddy,” he whispered.

“Do you want me to help, baby bear?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice small.

“Okay, let’s take your pacifier off. We don’t want to take it into the bathroom.” I unclipped his pacifier and placed it into its plastic holder. Standing, I swallowed a groan as my knees popped. At thirty-seven I was no longer made for crawling around on the floor, but I would suffer for a chance to play with my baby bear.

“Daddy’s knees go pop!” Rhys giggled as I helped him up.

“Yeah, they did. Daddy’s not as young as he once was.” I took hold of his hand and led him out of the playroom through to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, I led him up to the toilet. “Do you need Daddy’s help?”

Rhys shook his head. “I can do it, but stay close.”

I turned my back to give him some semblance of privacy, and had to bite back a laugh when I heard him sing a bright little song about potties. God, my boy was fucking adorable.

“Finished, Daddy,” Rhys piped up brightly.

Turning, I led him over to the sink and turned the taps on, checking the water was warm but not too hot. I guided his hands under the running water, soaping them and then rinsing them off. He wiggled his fingers under the water, humming softly. He was deep into his little space. I was astounded how quickly he’d slipped into it, and quietly thrilled that he trusted me so implicitly. Drying his hands off, I gave him a quick kiss on the nose and a delightful giggle followed. I was on cloud nine. Today was amazing.

Hands dry, Rhys reached up. Without being told, I scooped him up into my arms and walked back into the playroom, his head resting contently against my shoulder.

“Okay, baby boy, do you want to keep playing with your blocks and animals?”

“Yes.” Rhys nodded emphatically, making grabby hands for his pacifier. “Want pop.”

I handed him his pacifier and raised a brow. “Pop?”

Rhys slid his pacifier into his mouth, then sucked in his cheeks and pulled it out, making a soft popping sound, “Ahh, pop!”

“Okay, little man, you can go down on your rug. Daddy is going to finish unpacking some of these boxes.” I gave him a quick kiss on the nose before setting him down. Before I could straighten up, he cupped my face in his hands and pressed his nose to mine. I liked to think that in that silent communication, Rhys could feel how much I cared for him.

With a happy hum and a long pull on his pacifier, Rhys dropped his hands and crawled across his rug to find his blocks. I turned to the pile of boxes and sighed. The sooner I got everything away, the sooner I could see what extra I needed to get for my boy.

My boy.

It didn’t take much time before I had a pile of empty boxes and the cube shelves and painted crates were full. Books lined the top of the unit and a collection of small plush toys sat alongside them. The specialty diapers with their fun designs were packed away neatly in the dresser along with the wipes and baby powder, and in another drawer I placed the cute bibs and spare pacifiers.

Rhys might never want to try diapers, and I wouldn’t push him. I loved my boys in a diaper—I loved that level of caretaking—but I didn’t need it to have a fulfilling relationship with my boy.

We would take this at his speed.

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