Page 63 of Santa’s Little Faker
Oh, bubbles?
“I like bubbles.” I gave him my good boy smile. “You’re a good Daddy, so you got bubbles.”
Ha.
No question, so he had to stop his silly pouts.
“That’s right because I’m a good Daddy.” He forgot he wasn’t saying the Daddy word. He was proud of himself. “I’m glad you know that.”
He had to be silly again and get the grumbles about milk and cups but he liked being silly. He stopped and got distracted when my bubbles started getting bigger, though. “Tub time. You’re going to freeze.”
Sticky made me cold.
“When I’m all clean I get more surprises?” Daddy took my hands and helped me in the tub. “Do you like bathtub toys?”
Daddy chuckled. “Yes, but we need to pick some out. I didn’t think about bathtub toys yet.”
“You’re smart.” That was okay. “You got other stuff for me.”
Like surprises.
“That smile looks adorably greedy.” Daddy kissed my nose when I sat down careful. “Were you thinking about your surprises?”
“Yes.” Good boys didn’t lie. “I like presents and surprises.”
Terrence said that was okay and all the littles online did too…Daddy knew that was okay too because he laughed. “I’m glad.”
Sitting down beside the tub, Daddy scooped up some of the bubbles and put them on my head. “We need to make a list. Several probably. We need a to-do list and a stuff-to-buy list.”
“Toys.” For playing and for the bathtub. “And my tree. You said we’d do my tree.”
I didn’t have to fix the problem.
Daddy fixed the problem.
That was a Daddy job.
“That’s right.” Pushing off my bubble hat, Daddy smiled because he liked being silly. “We need to pick out snacks and dinners for Trippy, and we need to figure out what toys to have here and what toys to have at your house.”
Lots.
Did Terrence know he got toys at both houses?
“I like toys.” I liked bubbles too, so I scooped up the bubbles like I was going to give Daddy a hat and he laughed and crawled away like a crab. “Ha. I’ll get you.”
Once I was all clean and my bubbles were gone.
“Daddy stays dry outside the tub.” He was being silly but wet clothes were more yucky than just kind of sticky clothes.
“Do Daddies get in the tub?” I looked around. “Would you fit?”
He could play too.
I’d share.
Daddy looked at me and the bubbles and the tub. “Maybe? But we could not get me and toys in the tub.”
Oh.
