Page 54 of Culture and Curiosities
Somehow my disbelief seemed to delight him, however, and quickly shifted into what was probably called silliness.
“Moo.”
He made a variety of sounds including the bark that I already knew matched the small four-legged companion animals most humans seemed to bring into their homes.
“Oh no. I lost my squirrel and found a dog.” My acting needed work but my ability to be a silly Daddy was impressive. “Where is my sweet squirrel?”
Earth mates were interesting creatures.
“Woof.” Making the dog sound between periods of laughter, Wren was running on all fours around the room as fast as he could.
Yes, he would need to be leashed outside.
His enjoyment of the outside and physical activity in general meant he was in impressive shape, which meant fast and agile.
I was what Earth people called a desk jockey.
I gave my squirrel the mental image of being outside in his costume with the human leash called a harness wrapped around him.
It was unexpected.
Oops.
He crashed into the bed, laughter spilling out into the room and through our bond as he rolled onto his back. “Daddy…”
“My squirrel has crashed.” Sitting down beside him, I pretended to be worried and started patting him down, not tickling but earning more laughter as I searched his body. “Where are you hurt?”
I was not as funny as his laughter indicated, but his youthful mindset made everything more enjoyable.
“Oh no. I got a booboo and need kisses.” His expression indicated innocent fun that had transitioned into naughty fun, which required a different form of playing. “I’m broked, Daddy.”
That was not the word that should be used, but I nodded and ignored the youthful expression. “You need kisses.”
Sprinkling them over his face and head, I kept my expression serious as I straightened. “Did that fix your booboo?”
That word was strange.
Another sound-like word that should not describe an injury.
“No. Try again.” Wren shrugged like there was nothing he could do about it. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“You can’t help it.” Imitating his shrug, I frowned again and kissed over his shoulders and down one arm. “We’ll find the booboos.”
No, that word was not getting any better.
It was either strange English or a word they had adopted and tortured, and I planned on making Wren share the information with me when his brain was less distracted with imaginary injuries, cake, and the contents of his small grown-up toy bag.
“Not there, Daddy.” He was thoroughly enjoying the game, making quiet laughing sounds as he wiggled for more kisses. “Keep trying. You’ll find it.”
“I’m not sure that image is an appropriate way to search a squirrel.” My flat-sounding response had him shaking with physical representations of his humor as he tried to continue the game. “It was naughty, my squirrel.”
“I…” He fought to get enough air as I frowned and shook my head. “I’m your boy, Daddy. I’m not a squirrel.”
“I don’t know.” Attempting the human expression of looking skeptical, I sighed. “How do I know you’re my boy?”
My mate had a devious but distractable mind. “Oh…I…”
Looking down at himself, he frowned. “Well, I’m kind of a squirrel but I like grown-up things too, so I can’t just be a squirrel.”
