Page 52 of Their Little Helper

“Fine.” Nodding like the debate was over just like that, Daddy turned to me. “Do you like SpaghettiOs?”

“Yes.” Didn’t everyone?

Hmm.

“Papa’s face is…I don’t think he likes them.” He looked like he wanted to stick his tongue out and rub it to get something yucky off it. “That’s okay, though. We can all like different things and I like grown-up noodles too.”

Papa looked relieved at that as he finally let us into his place, but Daddy scrunched up his face. “Canned pasta is a human right. It’s not a little versus big thing.”

Really?

Papa wanted to argue with him about that too, but I just nodded and hoped someone could talk Daddy into a new subject as he got wound up again. “It’s got vegetables in it and you can eat it cold when you lose power and?—”

Papa figured out how to get him on a new subject.

He kissed him.

That worked.

Part of me wanted to giggle and part of me wanted to moan, but most of me just had fun watching. I’d never realized how much fun that could be. The fake people online weren’t fun to watch because I always worried about them or I just couldn’t relate to them…but I didn’t have to worry about Daddy and Papa together.

They might end up killing each other but they liked doing stuff together. That was probably the most important thing as long as Papa didn’t actually strangle Daddy.

At the moment, he just had Daddy pinned to the wall by the door and it looked like he was wrestling Daddy and trying to climb down his throat. On the other hand, Daddy seemed to be trying to climb Papa and was clinging on him like a monkey.

Yep, it was much more fun to watch them.

I had to remind little me not to come out and giggle because no matter what Daddy had said, I was pretty sure I had to be big to get my reward.

I’d been a very big boy and asked for exactly what I wanted so?—

Oops.

No. I’d been agood suband asked for what I wanted.

“You can’t—” As Papa released his mouth and started kissing along his jaw, Daddy still seemed to be trying to make him crazy.

It was either trying to tell him he was right about the pasta or just that Papa couldn’t kiss him into silence, but it didn’t seem to matter to Papa. He was going to win no matter what and that was going to be through lots of kissing.

And nibbling.

And licking.

And moaning.

And cursing.

“Pokey, you’re such?—”

Hmm.

Daddy’s timing for making Papa nuts was kind of suspicious. Every time Papa eased away to kiss somewhere else or just to breathe, Daddy would start to say something frustrating. That made Papa have to kiss him again.

If I realized it, Papa had to as well, but he seemed to be enjoying Daddy’s possibly bad behavior.

Were we allowed to be a pain in the butt just to get kisses?

No one had told me that and I wasn’t sure I’d be very good at it.

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