Page 71 of Valentine's Daddy To Go
“Sorry honey, we can only do one scoop today.” Madison gets really pouty. “But,” I continue, “next time, remind me and I’ll let you guys get two. Maybe even three if I’m feeling extra nice.”
Her eyes open wide.
“You promise?”
“I promise.” She doesn’t look convinced. Her eyes dart back and forth for a couple seconds before she holds out her pinky.
“Pinky promise?” My pinky is considerably bigger, so when I hold mine out, it dwarfs hers, but I do the pinky promise.
“I pinky promise. Do you trust me now?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs.
“What?” I ask, pretending astonishment. “But we just pinky promised!”
“Yes, but I don’tknowyou,” she says like a wise man. Then Madison shoots me a smile before going to join her sister to look at all the flavors. Clearly, this little girl is intelligent, just like her aunt. I let them ooh and ahh over everything, allowing them a couple of minutes to choose. After giving them what I think is adequate time, I approach the counter.
“Do you guys know what you want?”
“I want the one with Oreos,” Madison points.
“I just want chocolate,” Mackenzie lets me know.
“Go pick a table, and I’ll bring everyone’s ice cream over.” They nod and run off. I go to order our scoops and then bring them to the table for the three of us to enjoy.
“Thank you!” they say before digging into their dessert. It’s a mess almost instantly. I guess that makes sense since they are so little, but I’m surprised nonetheless. Children really are little mysteries, to me at least.
“So, are you Auntie Nellie’s special friend?” Mackenzie looks at me, her eyes wide.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, Mommy and Daddy are special friends. They kiss, have one bed, and are married. Do you guys kiss and have one bed? Are you guys going to get married?”
Oh my. These kids just get right to it. I’ve been interrogated by women in my life before, but these are the first ones to ever make me sweat.
I can see why Nellie loves them so much. Even with the mess and the invasive questions, they are a couple of cuties.
Which is why I’m going to answer their questions. But I also have a few of my mine that I’m going to ask first.
“Well, do youwantyour aunt to have a special friend?”
Madison is listening to the conversation but is also very much focused on her ice cream. Mackenzie holds her spoon in her bowl.
Her nose scrunches and then shrugs.
“Friends make us happy. So a special friend should make you extra happy, right?” That’s some good logic. These kids really do deserve this ice cream.
“That makes sense,” I nod.
“Then yes, I think I’d like you to be my aunt’s special friend,” Mackenzie proclaims. “So, are you Auntie Nell’s special friend?”
“Do you want me to tell the truth?” I ask.
They both nod seriously.
I lean forward and whisper conspiratorially. “I want to be her special friend, but I don’t know if she wants to bemyspecial friend.”
The little girls look aghast.
