Page 11 of My Christmas Alien Mate

"We have a naming day. Friends and family give presents when a baby is named, and then the parents celebrate all the important naming day anniversaries."

"Which are?" I asked, intrigued by this.

"The fifth anniversary celebrates the child's field of learning."

I interrupted him. "Field of learning?"

"It's when the child's interests are determined, which decides which schooling they will receive."

"So you decide what you want to be for the rest of your life at five?" I asked in disbelief.

"Don't you?"

I shook my head. "Most youths don't even know what they want to do when they get into college, at around eighteen."

"They might have forgotten because you waited too long," he said.

"What do you mean?" I was getting curiouser. How could a child, at five, possibly know what they wanted to be?

"Children are closely observed," Galexor explained. "Whatever they like to play with indicates what they're interested in."

"So if a four-year-old likes to play doctor, you send them to medical school?"

He nodded as if this were the simplest thing.

"Wow," I exhaled, "I'll have to give that some thought."

"You didn't know what career you wanted to pick at five?"

I chuckled. "I played with Barbies, and I'm sure glad they didn't decide for me to become a model."

He looked lost, but my stomach growled. It was time to eat something, especially if I wanted to kick this growing cold in the butt before it became a full-blown flu or worse.

"Come, let's eat."

"Idon'twanttoput you out. You need rest," I protested when I followed her into the kitchen area.

"You're not. I already prepared everything this morning," she said, opening the door to a very old-fashioned oven. Steam entered the kitchen as well as an aroma that made my mouth water.

Using two small towels, she pulled out a steaming dish and placed it on top of the counter. I dubiously stared at the whitish foam-like stuff on top that looked brown in places.

"Tada," she smiled warmly at me, a smile that did things to my cock and warmed my heart.

"That looks…" At a loss for words, I settled on a big lie, "Delicious."

She laughed that bell-like laugh of hers again. "It might not look that good, but it's yummy, and it'll warm your belly."

She pulled two very fragile-looking plates from a cupboard and forks from a drawer. With interest, I noticed that her forks had more tines than ours but were otherwise the same.

With a large wooden spoon, she put a decent-sized helping of the white fluffy looking stuff on my plate, and I was surprised to see that underneath the fluff was another brownish mass.

"Are you sure you can eat this?"

I pulled my data processor up and used one of the attachments to stick it into the food she put on my plate. Within the blink of an eye, my screen filled with what I had already assumed: the food was palatable with Scekyns' digestive system. For a moment, I considered telling her it wasn't when I gave the runny mess on my plate another look, but a glance at her eager face didn't allow me to do so. It would have been the coward's way out.

I put on a brave face and plunged my fork into the whitish fluff, all the while pep talking myself. After all, I was a test pilot, adventure ran in my blood. I had just never tried my daring nature on alien food.

"Be careful, it's hot," she advised and watched my fork with bated breath as it moved to my mouth.

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