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And while I was a bit slow to catch on to some things, I was not as dumb as the rabbit seemed to think. The fact that my snuggly little had decided wandering around the house was better than being cuddled and getting a book was significant.
“Benny is going to wait right here on the couch for us while you either go potty in the toilet or I change your diaper.” I wasn’t sure if I should’ve taken a more delicate approach, but I’d tried hinting by asking if there was anything he wanted to tell me, and that’d just led to a twenty-minute discussion on if the Little Engine that Could really could do anything.
Yep.
Insane.
But he had a wonderful imagination when he wanted to drag something out…and it was going to be very helpful down the road when I needed a clue about if he was bullshitting or serious about a topic.
His tells were fascinating.
Camden stopped trying to climb behind the couch to get a toy I was positive hadn’t actually fallen back there and his mouth dropped open. “You know?”
How was I supposed to answer that?
Being a Daddy was harder than I’d thought. “Make your choice, cutie.”
Avoidance seemed to only be a halfway decent tactic because he nibbled on his lower lip before everything spilled out at once. “Some littles use diapers and some don’t and I didn’t know if you knew that or not, but you knew how to put one on and you were very fast and looked very confident, Daddy, and you did a good job, so I was very proud of you, but I got distracted when we were watching the show because I had to see the scary part, and then I used it, but I didn’t know how to tell you because I didn’t know if you knew that littles did that.”
By the time the flood of words finally stopped, I was out of breath and exhausted, so I couldn’t even begin to guess how he was feeling.
Okay, plan…plan…
Step one, I had to make sure he knew I wasn’t an idiot.
Climbing on the couch, I knelt on the cushions and leaned against the back. “I like research, cutie. I like knowing things and being smart. That was why I didn’t like not knowing how to be a Daddy.”
God, that sentence was absolutely mangled.
“So I did lots of research, and I look up new stuff after every time we hang out together so that I know how to be an even better Daddy for you.” I was at the point where it was very specific topics. Like tonight, it was going to be research on littles with traumatic pasts and how not to trigger them.
Because I couldn’t tell if this was just Camden being Camden or a slightly triggered Camden.
“You’re a good Daddy, Daddy.” He didn’t get too close, but he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I…some Daddies are…”
He shrugged, not finishing the sentence but giving me the impression he hadn’t always had quality Daddies.
“Well, I did all kinds of research on littles who like diapers when we first met and even more after I saw your special box when I was hanging pictures in the playroom.” He’d said I could play with his toys if I wanted as he’d bounced off to go paint, so I’d taken that as permission to be nosy.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to remind him about his offer.
“Oh, I told you that you could play, Daddy.” His wiggles lost some of their intensity, but he was still overthinking this. “I did. I told you.”
Yep.
I hadn’t been sure if he would use it or not when I’d put the diaper on earlier. My intention had been to convey that I was okay with it. Clearly, something had been lost in translation.
Had he really thought I might not understand what they could be for?
Nope, I wasn’t going to ask.
His logic was interesting when he was little and even more curious when he was worried. Yep, learning experience for Daddy. No trying to be subtle.
“Diaper time and then book time in the big bed.” And then Daddy was going to find something to wear that wouldn’t shock little Camden or make him giggle. “Let’s go.”
His eyes darted around the room making me sigh internally.
“If you run, no books and it’s right to bed.” Giving him my best Daddy voice without sounding too rough, I raised one eyebrow and pinned him in place with a stern stare. “Not even one.”
That was a good enough consequence that I didn’t have to chase a nervous little through the house. If he’d been truly worried, he wouldn’t be little any longer and he’d be safewording, so I just stayed confident and managed to get around the couch and over to him before he made a dash for it.
