Page 25 of Kit
“It isn’t?”
“Not at all. Daddy never allows anyone to blame the victim. Someone was a thief. The crime was theirs, not yours.”
His face brightened. “Thank you, Daddy. That makes me feel better.”
He turned toward the toilet, while I moved back into the bedroom, closing the door halfway to give him privacy. As I heard him wash his hands, I walked to my big bedroom window and opened the curtains. It had a side view toward the mountains, but being upstairs there was also a balcony overlooking several trees.
Kit came out of the bathroom. He ran toward the window. “Wow. You have an arch top window. And it’s so big. It looks like a painting.”
“I had the window put in special after I bought the house.” It was paned and the arch made it a showcase for the view. I had been in a fancy mode back then, wanting all the ruffles on the curtains even though it cost more, and all new carpets. I’d finally gotten a house I could call my own and I wanted it my way.
A little further down were French doors that led to the balcony. All that paned glass meant less wall space. Because of the size of the room, I didn’t miss it.
“I love it. I love your house, Daddy. You picked a good one.”
“I love it, too, baby boy.” I paused. “Can I call you baby boy? You’re not really a baby.”
He tilted his head. “Say it again.”
“Baby boy.”
“I like it. But I like sweetheart, too.”
“I’ll remember.”
That afternoon, I brought out the games I’d planned to use to entertain Kit. They were games I loved, and over the years of being a Daddy, I had accumulated a lot. Mouse Trap. HungryHungry Hippos. Chutes and Ladders. Candy Land. Sorry. Trouble.
We played them all until my ass hurt from sitting too long.
We were both hungry anyway, so I told Kit to grab his parka, and I’d take him out for dinner.
He was so excited.
“Where are we going, Daddy?”
I put my hands on my hips and asked, “Do you like Mexican food?”
“Yum!” He grabbed his scarf, and I helped him put it on.
He loved the place I took him to. It had waterfalls and koi ponds. He ran around looking at all of it.
The menu had a kid’s section and he insisted on ordering from it. The waiter didn’t seem to mind that my date ordered a bean burrito with extra cheese, please, and chicken nuggets.
He devoured a lot of chips and salsa, too, along with the side of guacamole I ordered.
“Don’t ruin your appetite,” I warned.
He pulled his hands back from the table. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“I didn’t mean you couldn’t eat it all. I just thought you might’ve forgotten that more food is coming.”
“I love guacamole, Daddy.”
I pushed the bowl closer to him. “Have as much as you want, baby boy.”
It was fun measuring him up, learning his quirks and boundaries. The parameters in a daddy/boy or daddy/little relationship were different for everyone. Each person—each couple—found their way step by step. Like we were doing.
It was going beautifully.
