Chapter 9
Orlando
Stuff.
Stuff.
Green.
Green.
Stuff.
Stuff.
Green.
Green.
“’Cited.” Yes. Not sleepy. No sleepies. “’Cited.”
“Excited, yes.” Daddy Bastian was trying not to smile and looked silly. “But if you get nervous or upset, what do you say?”
“My colors.” Swinging Daddy Bastian’s hand, I nodded bigger and bigger. “I got colors. You got colors.”
“That’s right.” Daddy Bastian squeezed my hand. “And I know to use them if I get nervous or upset.”
Everybody got colors.
Everybody got ’motions.
“Good boy.” I was a good boy and Daddy Bastian was a good boy too. “Good boy.”
Daddy Bastian nodded but he got distracted. “Okay, up on the bed or in the chair?”
“Bed.” Run. Run. Run. Jump. “Big bed.”
Daddy Bastian had a big, big bed and squishy pillows and was soft, soft.
“Bounce.” Flop. “Fish.”
Daddy Bastian laughed. “You look like a dead fish flopping around on the ground.”
Yep.
Fishy lips.
Daddy Bastian laughed. “I can’t decide if that’s funny or creepy.”
One fish.
Two fish.
Floppy fish.
Dead fish.
“Creepy. It’s creepy. There’s no question.” Daddy Bastian sighed and grumbled and tried to make his dead fish laugh but I was a good dead fish. “Very creepy.”
Ugh.
He made me a silly fish and he laughed when I giggled. “Dead fish are creepy, Trippy.”
I was a good dead fish but I sat up and looked around. “Presents?”
I needed my presents.
Daddy Bastian laughed. “That’s much better. Dead fish reminds me of that trip I had to take with your uncles as a teenager. That was terrible.”
Fishing.
I giggled. “No fishing.”
I grabbed my tummy and groaned like a TV man. “Ohhh…got the poops…oh…”
Daddy Bastian laughed and laughed as he waved his hand. “That’s…that’s why your mother thinks you have a weak stomach?”
Good TV man.
Nodding, I pouted and sighed. “Sorry. No fishes. Oh no.”
Finding fishes was boring and long and men were nosy.
Daddy Bastian smiled and shook his head. “That’s brilliant.”
He pretended to frown as he went over and got a big brown box out of the closet like the man had brought me special presents. “You realize your mother thought you were allergic to weird shit as a teenager, right?”
I shrugged. “No bread! No rice! No ’tatoes!”
Oh well.
Shaking his head, Daddy Bastian made another silly sound. “I guess that’s a reasonable trade-off for not having to go on those trips. Your uncles wanted to talk about who I was dating and what I thought of that weird girl down the street who was always spying on everyone.”
Naughty men.
Nosy men.
Stupid men.
“Naughty girl.” I shrugged as Daddy Bastian brought my box over. “Girl in jail.”
Daddy Bastian sighed. “Your family has terrible taste in women, but I’m not going to be the one to point that out at family dinner. So we’re just going to keep that to ourselves.”
Nodding, I sat up on my knees and wiggled for my box. “Shh…”
“Oh yeah.” Daddy Bastian gave a big Daddy kind of smile. “I’m also not going to point out that you still look like a puppy.”
Wiggly butts.
“You’re lucky, though, littles are cuter than pups.” Daddy Bastian put my box on the bed. “Which is why I have fun stuff for a cute boy.”
Me.
I was Daddy Bastian’s cute boy.
“Ohhh…” Lots of stuff. “Look….”
Binkies and blankies and bottles and lots of stuff.
Daddy Bastian smiled but shrugged like he felt silly. “I couldn’t resist some of the stuff.”
’Cause it was for me.
“Cars.” Daddy Bastian bought car diapers and special jammies and even a blue binkie. “Mine.”
He laughed and nodded as he sat down beside me. “Yes, they’re yours but you have to tell me if there’s something you don’t want to try.”
“Colors.” I ’membered. “Green.”
Mine.
Daddy Bastian picked up the bottle and showed me. “Should we try a bottle of milk and cuddle in my big chair in the living room?”
He had a Daddy chair.
He didn’t pretend good.
I pretended better.
“Yes. Green.” Ha. I told him my color. “Mine.”
Picking out the binkie, I held it up. “Big.”
“Yes, the regular ones are too small.” He scrunched his face up. “Have you tried those? It’s frustrating.”
“You?” I held up my binkie next to Daddy Bastian’s face. “Try?”
He laughed. “Not that one, but I tried one a while ago. I wanted to understand what a little would be feeling.”
His little.
Ha. Ha.
“Practice.” Daddy Bastian liked being right. “Good boy.”
I patted his head and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “Silly boy.”
Yes.
Funny boy, too.
Daddy Bastian looked back in the box and put his thinky face on. “Is there anything you don’t want to try?”
“No.” Hmm. “More toys.”
Daddy Bastian gave me a silly face. “Yes, I haven’t forgotten the lack of toys, but I’m trying to be a good helper.”
Good Daddy.
Ha.
He was going to forget his game and say the Daddy word.
“Diapers?” Daddy Bastian liked to worry. “Green.”
He liked the diapers.
Sneaky peek.
Look at his boy.
Sneaky peek.
Look serious.
Sneaky peek.
Still worried.
“Okay, but what do you do if you have questions?” Daddy Bastian looked too thinky.
So I got him.
Ha.
I was fast.
“Ompf.” Daddy Bastian tried to look frowny again but he wanted to laugh. “You got me.”
Mine.
“Fast.” Faster. Faster. “Stuck.”
I made Daddy Bastian stuck.
“You’re just going to camp up there and sit on me, huh?” Daddy Bastian tried to look frowny again but he was stuck and giggly. “Just gonna pin me to the bed?”
Yes.
Daddy Bastian was fast too.
Oops.
“Now who’s pinned to the bed?” Daddy Bastian was the bad guy and had me stuck. “Who’s fast now?”
Daddy Bastian.
But I laughed and laughed.
“I’m supposed to be scary.” He scrunched up his face and pouted. “No giggling at the scary man.”
Scary Daddy.
“Bottle?” Big eyes. Look cute. Hmm. Cheek kiss. “Please?”
Ha.
Daddy Bastian sat up. “Sure. Let’s—”
“I win.” Ha. I escaped. “I win.”
“Hey.” Daddy Bastian huffed. “That’s sneaky.”
Cheek kisses were very sneaky.
Terrence said so.
“I cute.”
Daddy Bastian huffed and puffed and then his smile escaped. “You’re very cute. I’m going to remember that.”
Nope.
“Bottle?” Distract the Daddy. Terrence said so. “Cuddles?”
Daddy Bastian sighed.
Defeat.
Terrence was regular smart and Daddy smart too.
“Yes, cuddles.” He shook his head but took my hand. “Alright, is milk okay? You used to like it.”
“Grown-ups don’t drink milk, but I’m little.” I shrugged. “I get milk.”
Daddy Bastian rolled his eyes. “Your father is a moron. He’s well-intentioned but he’s an idiot.”
Yep.
“Good with cars?” Grumpy moron, helpful moron. “And fish.”
He scrunched up his face again. “If dating you ends up with me having to go fishing, you’re going to owe me.”
Terrence told Leander how to say thank you.
“That laugh was pure evil.” Daddy Bastian grumbled. “Nope. I’m not going to ask.”
“Tell?” Daddy Bastian would squirm. “Cute.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Grumble. Grumble. Grumble. “Yes. But a cute menace.”
Me?
Ha.
Cute.
Daddy Bastian liked talking to himself. I smiled and gave him the big eyes like I’d practiced as he took me to the kitchen.
Cute.
Sweet.
Not naughty.
Nope.
He sighed.
I won.
I got milk too.
“At some point I’m going to forget my common sense and ask you what’s so funny.” Daddy Bastian took my hand again. “It’s not today…but some point.”
Later.
“Cuddles?” He had a big Daddy chair. “Rock?”
“It glides back and forth.” Daddy Bastian forgot to be grumpy. “Let me show you.”
He liked cuddles.
He liked snuggling his boy.
He liked pretending not to be a Daddy.
But he had a Daddy chair and a bottle and a binkie and diapers.
Oh.
I sucked.
I was smart.
Milk.
Daddy Bastian had the good milk.
Good milk.
Good snack.
Good cuddles.
“That’s right. Just relax and see if you like the bottle.” Daddy Bastian held me tight and made the chair go back and forth over and over. “I thought you’d like that.”
Daddy Bastian liked it too.
“Long sucks and just relax. We’ll see how you like it.” He made soft sounds and kissed my head. “Close your eyes. That’s the best way.”
Daddy Bastian practiced?
Yes.
Gotta be a good Daddy.
Gotta know everything.
Daddy Bastian was…he was…sneaky…he was sneaky…