Page 88 of A Little Bit Naughty

“Daddy, you just have to pretend. You could see the stars, right?”

“Absolutely, fizzy Izzy.”

He giggled, the loveliest sound in the world. “Why am I fizzy, Daddy?”

“Because you’re so full of excitement. Like little bubbles floating up to your hair and popping out.” He tickled his fingers rapidly up Izzy’s sides, then continued up to his neck and ears to “pop” at the tip.

“Again, Daddy! Do Fizzy Izzy!”

God, his beautiful, beautiful boy. Remi repeated the motion until Izzy squirmed with laughter, wrapping his arms around his chest to get away, all while leaning into Remi’s hands.

“OK, too much, Daddy.” Izzy was still laughing, his breath almost gone.

Remi pulled him tightly against him.

When Izzy’s giggles quieted, he asked in a quiet voice, “You’re my Daddy now, right?”

It seemed that they’d been wondering about the same things. About how this would all work and what they were to each other. “Very much so,” Remi agreed seriously. “For as long as you want me.” Maybe for the rest of the weekend. Hopefully for their whole lives. But he wasn’t going to push while Izzy was in little space.

“So kissy Izzy, Daddy?”

Just when he thought Izzy couldn’t get any cuter, he stole Remi’s breath away. He ran his fingers across the back of Izzy’s head, then tilted his chin up for a kiss. He kept it light, sipping and fluttering over Izzy’s lips, memorizing the exact feeling of their plush roundness. The way Izzy’s lips parted so easily for him at the slightest press of tongue. The soft whimpers that spilled from his baby’s mouth. Oh, how he’d missed this.

When he pulled back, he felt almost dazed.

Izzy was his boy. His. He would have to find a way to make this work.

“More kisses, Daddy?” Izzy asked hopefully.

Remi chuckled. “If I give you any more kisses now, I’ll eat you all up, and then we won’t be able to have dinner in the sukkah.”

“Oh, Daddy! I want dinner in the sukkah. Is it time yet?”

Remi looked at his watch. It was about six-fifteen, but he had no idea what qualified as the right time.

“Oh, wait! I have a better idea! Two for one,” Izzy giggled, either at his own idea or Remi’s confusion. “You’re supposed to do the sukkah blessings in the morning. But if we do them right now, we can do them for today, and for tomorrow!”

“Alright,” Remi played along.

Izzy darted across the roof to find the lulav and etrog, picking up his own soft kids set and the adult cardboard boxes. He carefully took out the plant bundle, the three separate plants nestled in a holder of braided palm leaves. Remi had read enough to know that it contained three species—palm, myrtle, and willow—and that you were supposed to shake them, but he had the sense it would be different when it all came together.

Izzy set everything on his rickety table, then pulled it into the sukkah. They opened the boxes together.

“OK, pick up the lulav and etrog… No wrong hand.”

Remi switched them wordlessly. He’d think Izzy was making it up, but he looked completely serious. Still in little mode, but maybe a bit older to walk Remi through the ceremony. So the etrog, the bumpy lemon, belonged in the left hand. He couldn’t wait to hear the fascinating historical or mystical reason for that.

Mimicking Izzy, Remi held the cluster of leaves pointing upward, his two hands touching each other.

“Now we say the bracha.”

He sang in a rapid flow of words that kept the same pitch at the beginning, then became tuneful at the end.

Remi tried to jump in—he had practiced a little bit and he pretty much had the first part down—but it was all too fast.

“Daddy! Did you learn the brachot?”

“I tried, fizzy Izzy. I don’t pick up languages easily.”