Page 19 of Our Boy (Our Love)


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“Uncle Cohen?” He pointed again to a rabbit, bouncing on his toes as I knelt down to take off his pants.

Guessing that it translated into questioning if Cohen would like his pajamas, I nodded as I unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down his legs. “Yes, Uncle Cohen is going to love your jammies. He remembered how much you liked the bunny we picked out for you.”

Quickly changing his jeans and briefs for the pajamas and training pants, I did my best to focus on how excited he was and not on how naked he was. But I had to admit, I was relieved when he was dressed and I hadn’t fucked up anything.

“Alright.” Standing, I put his dirty clothes in the corner and looked around. “We need Bunny, but do you need anything else?”

I was thinking of a binkie or another stuffed animal, but Ian just nodded and hurried over to a basket filled with books. Bouncing on his knees as he searched through the books, he finally had three in his hands and held them up excitedly. “Uncle Cohen.”

That seemed to mean Uncle Cohen had been designated the reader for the night, so I smiled and looked at his goodies. “Oh, he’s going to like those.”

More bunnies.

Ian nodded excitedly like there wasn’t a question in his head about how much Uncle Cohen would love the books. “One. Two. Three.”

Laughing, I nodded. “One. Two. Three. Come on, cutie. Let’s go find Uncle Cohen and see what veggies he found for dinner.”

Ian scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Grapies. Pizza. Surprise. One. Two. Three.”

Rolling my eyes as I took his free hand, I had to fight the urge to smile as he giggled. “No one, two, three. You need a vegetable.”

Every article and blog post about littles and Daddies had agreed that making sure they ate healthily when they were little was important. I’d thought they were just being dramatic, but evidently Ian wasn’t the only little who seemed to have made a game out of avoiding vegetables.

Bouncing his head back and forth as he tugged my arm and got ready to fly through the house, he giggled and teased me again. “One. Two. Three.”

Then off we went.

Cohen was a complete sucker.

As we flew into the kitchen, books and bunny in hand, Ian started giggling as soon as he saw his divided plate with a neat pile of the sweet fruit. “Grapies. One. Two. Three.”

Cohen raised one eyebrow, cocking his head as he looked to me for a translation. “Counting means?”

I snorted, making Ian start laughing again. “Counting means he won.”

“Ah.” Cohen nodded like it made perfect sense. “It’s not my fault. He’s out of everything but cabbage and fresh green beans of all things. They don’t go with pizza.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong, but he grinned when he was saved by the knock on the door. “And there it is.”

“Uncle Cohen is a sucker.” As I shook my head and led Ian over to the table, Cohen grinned and headed to grab the food. “You knew you were going to win.”

My cutie just giggled and plopped down on his chair, setting the books and bunny on either side of him. His treasures took up nearly half the table, but I wasn’t sure either of them was a good idea around pizza.

“Let’s get Bunny his own seat.” My idea had Ian scrunching up his face before giving me a kingly nod. “And maybe Bunny can sit on the books to make him taller?”

That should keep everything clean, right?

Before Ian could decide if he was going to be dramatic about that or not, Cohen came back in and distracted him. “The pizza is here.”

As Ian bounced, vibrating with excitement, I placed Bunny and the books on a chair and went to find a knife to cut up his pizza. I was assuming his teasing earlier about stabbing me meant he was supposed to eat it with a fork…and that meant it needed to be bite-sized.

“One. Two. Three?” Ian was wiggling excitedly in his chair, searching the room. “Surprise?”

That got me another raised eyebrow from Cohen, who was leaning against the counter watching me cut pizza into tiny squares. “I didn’t tell him what was in the box, but he knows it’s a surprise.”

“Ah.” Cohen gave Ian a wink, making our cutie laugh again. “And the numbers?”

“That seems to be as high as he counts when he’s little and he’ll keep smiling sweetly as he counts to three over and over to get as many goodies as he can.” My sheepish expression had Cohen laughing. “What? You wouldn’t have done any better.”

As Cohen started coughing, doing a bad cover-up of his delight, Ian gave him wide eyes and pouted. “One. Two. Three. Uncle Cohen?”

And Uncle Cohen melted.

As he nodded, I snorted. “See. You’re a sucker too.”

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