Page 126 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

“I will,” I said, wishing I could watch him shower like I’d done yesterday.

He winked at me and hurried into the bathroom. “I’ll leave it unlocked in case you need the toilet part. I’ll be sure to close the shower door area.”

I watched him go, loving the sweatpants and shirtless look he had going on, before turning back to my daughter.

I saw her watching me. “Hey, sweet baby.”

“Hi,” she whispered.

But not as quiet as she usually would.

It was a practical scream for her.

“Mama is going to go have lunch with Ginger, Neesha, and Noel. Do you mind staying with Jeremiah?” I asked her.

I’d started talking to her seriously when it was apparent that her presence caused my dad to react poorly. He’d never hit her—never had a chance to come close to—but her presence did make him angry.

My dad must’ve instinctively known that I’d lose my shit on him if he’d come anywhere near my kid, so he’d always been standoffish with her.

“Yes.” She nodded vigorously.

“Good,” I said. “I was thinking we’d go get dressed and you could go see Grams with Jeremiah.”

She was up and out of the bed in seconds, heading to the room she’d been using.

It had an attached bath, and all of her clothes and things that Jeremiah and Chris had helped retrieve from my car.

She ran right to the Christmas sweats—which I’d washed and folded last night—and started to yank them on.

“Don’t you want to wash your face, brush your teeth, and go to the bathroom first?” I teased.

She finished putting her pants on backward and ran into the bathroom ready to go.

I waited until she was ready before helping her reposition her pants.

She ran for the line of shoes along the wall and stared at them in contemplation.

Eventually she chose the boots—which I would’ve put on her regardless since it was still wet and gross out—and sat down on her bottom.

“Wait, baby,” I said. “Let’s put some socks on.”

She held out her hand for the socks that I’d found for her, and I rolled my eyes.

She was in the ‘I’ll do it myself’ stage, and I never bothered to argue with her.

She was fully dressed, shoes even on the right feet, when she made a mad dash past me toward where I could now hear Jeremiah moving around.

“There you are, my little Christmas elf,” he called out.

When I made it around the corner the two of them were standing in front of the counter where the leftovers from yesterday were strewn.

“Should we go with cinnamon rolls, or turkey and eggs?”

I left them to it, getting myself ready—which took less time than it took to get Anleigh ready.

I came back out to the kitchen full of ladies.

“Hey.” I smiled bashfully at them. “Y’all are quick.”

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