“Me toooooo.”
This year has been packed full of changes, and big ones at that. From being dumped to finding the perfect Daddy to Daddy getting the job of a lifetime and now buying our own house. Exciting, fun and scary all at the same time. But I knew Daddy would always take care of me, so I tried not being my usualworry-wort self about money. We agreed on a mortgage that wouldn’t stress us out and we’d stick to it no matter what Ms. Prissy Pants thought.
We ended up at a quiet strip center restaurant, well, more like a bistro, and one I’d been to before and had really enjoyed, for lunch. Given it was a weekday, the place was half empty so Daddy and I wouldn’t be rushed out. Plenty of time to work through our questions.
As soon as we placed our orders, Daddy pulled the folded sheets for each house from his pockets. “Okay, one by one and I want the honest truth about what you like and don’t like for each. Understood?” I loved it when he got all bossy, made my tummy go whoosh!
“Yes, Daddy. Same for you. Don’t just agree because it’s what your boy wants,” I scrunched my face at him. “I’ve got your number, sir.”
Daddy laughed. “That you do, sweetheart and Daddy promises,” he finger-crossed his heart. “House number one, on an acre. Ranch style, all on one floor. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms but it was on septic and well water.”
A quick internet search of those utilities and I had my answer. “Hard pass. From what I just read the maintenance on septic and well water might be more than we’re willing to contend with.” See, I could be a smart big boy.
“Agreed.” Daddy tore that sheet up and set it aside. “Down to two.” We went back and forth on them, referring to the pictures then back to the listings long after our plates were empty. “Which one are you leaning more toward?”
“Well, they’re almost identical. Same rooms, baths, lot size but I think the one with the two-car garage versus the carport would be my first choice.” Now that Daddy had his own car it would be so cute to see our babies parked side by side in the garage and out of the summer heat.
“That’s a good point. Garage house it is. Now, let’s figure out what to offer.” We didn’t want to lowball and risk offending the sellers, but there were a few things we anticipated would come up during the inspection we’d need to fix. Everything else was cosmetic changes due to our tastes and preferred style choices.
Daddy fired off a text to Ms. Priss, he-he it was fun to nickname her in my head, with our offer, and then he paid the bill. “Time to head home. Daddy has a surprise for his sweet uni.”
“Really?”
“Yup then a nice, relaxing evening. Tubby time and a movie. How’s that sound?” Daddy asked as he merged onto the highway.
“Sounds like a dream and the perfect way to end this busy day.” I was done braining and my legs were all noodley. “Sleepy, Daddy,” the words came out tangled with a yawn as I closed my eyes, just for a minute.
“Sweet boy,” Daddy’s lips touched mine. “We’re home.”
“Huh?” I wiped my eyes and glanced around. “Oh, ha, I fell asleep.”
“That you did. I’m sorry I didn’t realize just how tired you were. No matter how cute you get tonight,” Daddy side-eyed me, “You are not staying up late.”
“But it’s fun when we do naughty stuff.”
“That it is but it’s not good Daddy manners when it causes his boy grief. It’ll be an early night for us, little uni. Come on, let’s get inside.”
“Do I still get my prezzie?”
“Indeed, you do, then we’re settling in for the night.”
As long as I got to cuddle up with Daddy later and fall asleep, all was right in my world. “Kay, Daddy.” He locked the door behind us, and we took off our shoes, setting them on the nearby rack.
Daddy sat in the recliner but didn’t turn on the TV as I’d expected. “Sweetheart, can you bring Daddy his guitar, please?”
“Which one?”
“The acoustic. The one you call Woody.”
Woody, he-he, that word always made me giggle, but this guitar was made of wood which is how the name came to be. Carefully, I removed it from the stand and handed it to him. Daddy strummed a few chords, and I sat on the coffee table in front of him. I loved watching him play, how his face morphed into the ultimate Zen. His voice soothed something deep inside me as I got lost inside his world.
“Daddy wrote his Little Uni a song.”
“What? You did? I have my own song? Will it ever be played on the radio?”
“Do you want it to be?”
I thought hard about that, but the answer came quickly. “No, Daddy, I want it to be sung only to me.”
