Chapter Eleven
Summit
Rowan needed lots of positive affirmations. Some littles were outgoing, would fling themselves into their daddy’s arms and tell them exactly what they wanted. Some could be described as demanding even.
This little was the polar opposite.
“What would you like to do next, Rowan?” I asked. “You can tell Daddy. Would you like to color with the big crayons?”
He frowned, brow wrinkling in deep thought.
He was sweet and cute and happy to share toys with others.
It took a little effort to find out what he wanted, but with encouragement, he would open up and let me know.
As our evening together went on and he switched from playing with the littles to letting me know he wanted to spend time with me, his sweetness spilled out of him.
“Can we go to the story corner, Daddy?”
“Of course. Why don’t you pick out one of your favorites and come sit on my lap.
” Most evenings, there was a selection of story and picture books set up, along with a couple of big chairs where a mommy or daddy could cuddle with their littles and enjoy a book together.
Ms. Lily, who was in charge of the little room here at Chained, even made sure to tuck a few chapter books into the selection for the middles.
But tonight, the little who crouched in front of the bookshelves was not looking for something with a lot of printed words.
Instead, he focused on the bottom shelf with the tallest picture books, pulling out a few then shaking his head and pushing them back in.
“No, no, no, yes!” The fourth one met his requirements, and he stood up, clutching it to his middle. “Do you like the ocean, Daddy?”
“I certainly do. Come and show me.” I patted my thigh. “Does it have pictures of fish?”
He backed up, glancing over his shoulder, and I helped him to sit down. The deep, comfortable chair was designed for this. Lots of room for snuggling.
“We have to see.” He wriggled, getting comfortable. “It looks blue.”
“It really does.” The ocean wrapped around the outside of the book, a gorgeous deep blue with a single grinning fish. “I can’t wait to see what’s inside.”
“Me too.” Leaning back against my shoulder, Rowan handed me the book. “Show me.”
It was just what it looked like, a picture book with fish, but the artist had been so good at it that Rowan was enchanted.
Each fish was true to life but with a real personality at the same time.
And, since it was a picture book, there were no words at all once we got past the title and copyright pages.
“Daddy, what is that fish saying?”
“I think he’s glad to meet you.” I launched into a tale of the fishes that inhabited each page and their friendships.
It was easy, since they did have so much personality.
This one had a broad smile, that one a smirk.
The black-and-orange striped one wanted to be friends with the others, but they were afraid he was a tiger fish and might be mean.
But, of course, he wasn’t mean at all. And soon all the others understood that, too.
As we turned each page, there was another fish or group, the colors striking, the story potential great.
I’d always enjoyed reading books to littles, but Rowan was special, and his choice of books made it easy.
As we neared the end of the book, Rowan sighed, and I closed the volume. “Wasn’t that a nice story?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it was a lot of stories.”
It had been, and when I looked up, we were the last ones in the room. I hated to see the evening come to an end. “We can do this again another time if you like.”
“Yes, Daddy. Next time, maybe I’ll color you a fish.” He tilted his head and said, “Or a spaceman.”
“I’d love that.”
I escorted Rowan to the changing room and waited while he got his utilitarian and grown-up backpack from the locker.
Once again, I mused how that pack didn’t suit him.
The other littles in the group changing room all had the cutest backpacks or duffels.
But I had a plan for that. One a notification on my phone had informed me had just arrived.
While in Chicago and feeling guilty about the text that hadn’t sent, I’d checked with a couple of daddy friends and found the supplier where most of their littles bought their packs as well as a whole lot of other awesome items. Logging into the website required a referral, which, of course, my friends were glad to give.
Bridger, Hudson’s daddy, also told me that most of the littles preferred to buy them either plain or with their name embroidered and embellish them themselves.
Even “plain,” they were adorable and came in a variety of fabrics.
Many had trains, cars, or other cute patterns, but I went with a two-tone blue and added a variety pack of stickers that could be ironed on.
If he liked it…if he wanted to, we could go back on the site and order other items to stick on, iron on, sew on, dangle from or otherwise, well, embellish the bag to his liking.
It was hard not to tell him about it as I walked Rowan out to his car and kissed him good night, wishing for more but accepting where we were right at this moment. I closed the car door behind him and watched him drive away.
When I got home, the box was waiting for me in the parcel delivery area of the building foyer.
I carried it to my place and opened it the moment I got inside.
The backpack was in a beige drawstring bag with the name of the company I bought it from stamped on it.
I was impressed that they hadn’t put it anywhere obvious on the pack itself like many brands would.
It was well made, the colors bright and cheerful, stitches neat and even, and the gallon-size zip-top bag held many more patches than I’d expected as well as some stickers and, of all things, a little spaceman on a chain.
Rowan would have a blast decorating his pack, but I had another idea for the inside.
The sweet little’s need for positive affirmations inspired me.
I would fill the pack with positive affirmation stickers and coloring books and other small, thoughtful but inexpensive items he could enjoy without feeling overwhelmed or like I was trying to show off.
He was going to love it!