Page 30 of A Little Spilled Milk

“Nope, not everything.” He took my hand and started toward the car, his tone playful enough that I was no longer inwardly pouting about the change of plans.

“We didn’t tell Tippy we were going to be gone. We said we were just going to the leasing office.” We always told her where we were going and when we’d be back. Even if she could understand us, she didn’t care. Give her a pillow or a warm patch of sunlight and she was a happy, happy girl.

“Trust me.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “Tippy is going to be happy with this one.”

I had no idea where we were going, which didn’t matter. Daddy was taking me, so it was going to be fun. In my head, I pictured a nice dinner out, maybe the arcade, possibly the club—all sorts of ideas.

Pulling into the pet store parking lot? That hadn’t been one of them. “We’re not getting a friend for Tippy, are we?”

He shot me an are-you-kidding-me look. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. We have litter and food and enough toys for the world.” She was nothing if not spoiled.

“Yes, but she’s had a big change in her life, so we need to get her something new.”

“Okay.” I loved how he took care of her, even though I knew she annoyed him to no end. We went inside, and he headed straight to the back.

“I got the text alert this morning.”

“You get text alerts from the pet store?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

I, in fact, did not get text alerts from the pet store.

“Here we are.” He stopped at an end cap filled with cat condos, all shaped differently. There was one that looked like a mushroom, one that was a tree, one that was a little apartment building. They weren’t your typical ones, and honestly, they were pretty fabulous.

“Which one do you think she’d like?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” The tree was cool, but it was pretty big. So was the apartment building. I settled on the mushroom, which had a bed on top of the mushroom cap.

“She’ll like this one.” I pointed to the purple mushroom because brown felt boring.

“Perfect.”

We bought it, and on the way home, we grabbed a kid’s meal because it had little Matchbox cars, and I pretty much wanted to collect them all. I already had four of the eight.

“We’re home, sweetie.” I pushed the door wide so Daddy could carry the box in, while I carried our lunch.

She didn’t come running like she often did, but when I found her sleeping in the patch of sun, I understood why. “Always finding the good place to sleep—silly thing.” She didn’t bother to look up.

After lunch, we put the condo together, then the two of us put on a movie, snuggled together, and waited for her to try it.

She didn’t. She ignored it completely, instead sitting in the box. She loved boxes and brown paper grocery bags. At this point, Iwasn’t sure why we didn’t just buy her those. According to social media, she was far from alone in that.

I looked up at Daddy. “I thirsty.” I batted my lashes, being far more silly than Little.

“Oh, are you now?”

I nodded.

“Well, if my little boy is thirsty…” He pulled his shirt up and over, and I leaned in, circling his nipple with my tongue before latching on and pulling warm milk into my mouth.

I drank and drank until I nearly fell asleep, cradled in my Daddy’s arms.

I. Was. Home.

And as I cuddled up in his lap, enjoying my milk coma, I saw Tippy out of the corner of my eye, settling into her new mushroom house.

---