Page 29 of Daddy Bear Picnic

“Thank you, Daddy Bear,” he said, nearly squealing with a giggle. “Ok. Open it.”

“If something jumps out at me, I’m gonna put you on the naughty step, and confiscate your teddies.” Recently, he’d been scaring me when walking around corners of the house. Sometimes on purpose, while other times he was just being really quite and hyper focused with his art, so I’d scared myself.

“It’s not, I promise.” He held a pinky finger out and wiggled it. “Pinky promise.”

“I believe you, baby.”

Inside the wicker picnic basket, there was a lot of food. So many different packets of flavored chips, two whole sleeves of cookies, a multi-pack of apple boxes, still in the plastic wrapping. And under it all, a loaf of pre-sliced sourdough, a packet of ham and some loose cheese slices in their plastic.

“Ok, I think you thought of everything,” I said, which was sweet considering we were very close to the house and kitchen.

“Did I forget anything?”

“Well, I think you packed quite a bit in there, but I think you’re forgetting one major food group.”

Malcolm bit down on his lip and hummed. “Chips, cookies, sandwiches, juice.” He pointed at each thing as he mentioned them. “Nope. I got them all. Oh no!” He gasped. “No chocolate. You’re right.”

“No, not chocolate,” I laughed.

“Well, is it food?”

“Yes, it is a food.”

He counted them again, telling me once more how I was mistaken.

“I thought I was a good Daddy, I should know how to do a picnic, right?”

Nodding in agreement, I knew he was going to be annoyed with himself when I told him what he’d forgotten, even if he’d missed it out on purpose. “What am I missing then?”

“Fruit,” I said. “And not the fruit boxes.” I managed to get it in there before he went to point at them in his defense. “But overall, this is a great picnic basket. And now I have an important question to ask, it’s very important.”

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Of course, I did,” he said pushing them into my face for me to smell. “Smell like the sweet soap.”

I held the hands at my face for a moment, inhaling the scent and tempted to give them a nibble. I kissed the back of his hands and rubbed them against my facial hair. “Looks like you’re gonna have to come back inside with me to wash them again.”

Since we’d been doing this for weeks, we’d gotten into the habit of washing our hands together before eating and brushing our teeth before bed. We had two hand soaps and two toothpastes, one a regular scent or flavor like spearmint, and the other was always something fun, like a bubblegum or strawberry, in both the hand soaps and toothpastes.

I’d forgotten how much fun it was to be in this dynamic and play with a little, there was something fulfilling about notactually having someone who didn’t have full control of their faculties play as a little who didn’t. There was no real stress there, only fun.

In those weeks, it had become our unwritten tradition to have these picnics in the sun. The weather had been nice all summer, so far. And today it ended.

As we ate and relaxed in the sun from all the work we’d done, a rolling dark cloud suddenly appeared and before I could snatch all four corners of the picnic blanket and haul it inside, the heaven’s opened up and a cascade of rain chased us inside.

“Do you think the paint will be ok?” Malcolm asked, sticking a hand out in the rain from the backdoor.

“Balls. We need to get the paint inside.” And thankfully the paint cans had the lids on them, but for a moment of panic, I hadn’t thought they were.Malcolm came outside too, but not to help, he embraced the rain on his skin, spinning in circles as he became drenched.

I watched, piling the cans on top of each other in the doorway at the back. “Come on,” I called out. “You’ve had your fun. Let’s get you dried off.”

“But it feels so good,” he said, pausing and staring up at the sky. “Come and feel it.”

This wasn’t a moment I was going to pass up. Out in the rain, the slight warmth in the air against the cold of the water droplets was divine. We stood together until the water had soaked my shirt completely.

I gave Malcolm’s forehead a kiss, my favorite spot as it meant he always looked up at me with those sweet innocent eyes. “You’re really gonna make me carry you back inside, huh?”

He didn’t say that’s what he wanted, but it was obvious, and as soon as he knew it was an offer on the table, he waited for me to pick him up with a shoulder haul. I didn’t say how he’d be carried. His body over my shoulder, his ass in the air. I gave hima gentle spanking pat on the ay back into the house. He giggled and I gave it to him again.

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