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But he shakes his head. “Mom says they’re expensive, and I already have the dinosaurs, so that’s what I use.”
I do not want to be the dad who throws money at every problem, but this is something I can solve. If Aria’s on board with it. I don’t want to upset her. “Okay. Sounds good.”
“Guys, ready for dinner?”
“Oh yeah,” Owen says excitedly. He runs off for the kitchen.
“Whatever it is, it smells amazing.”
“Thanks. Nothing fancy. Spaghetti and meatballs.” She smiles and when she turns, I grab her ass, which makes her giggle. “Naughty.”
“Whenever I can be.”
We join him at the table in the kitchen, and each portion out our plates. There’s even garlic bread and salad. “This is quite a spread.”
“I hope I made enough, but it might not be any good—it’s a new recipe on the meatballs. It’s usually just us, so I’m not used to cooking for three.”
Yet.
“Thank you for this, Aria. I know it was a lot of work.”
She smiles again, and we dig in. “How is it?”
Hard not to gush with a mouthful. “You undersold the meatballs. This is fantastic.”
“One of Owen’s favorite foods, which is why he’s about to lick his plate.”
I look, and he’s got spaghetti sauce and mischief on his face. Not sure what to say. Slowly, I ask, “Is that something that’s allowed?”
But instead of answering, she asks him, “Two messes in a day, Owen?”
“Oh, you’re right.” So, he mops his garlic bread in the sauce instead.
“You made another mess?”
He shrugs while dipping. “I got my coat dirty when we played Princess Bride.”
My heart lurches, and I turn to her. “He wasn’t in trouble for that, right? I didn’t mean to—
“No, not at all. The mess thing is a self-inflicted thing he does, because he doesn’t like messes.” She smiles and shrugs. “I’m just happy when he does kid things, but he is particular about his clothes and his toys and his bed—do not get him started on his bed.”
“A messy bed makes my brain messy, and I can’t sleep. Mommy sleeps in a messy bed, and I don’t get it.”
“You have a messy bed?”
She rolls her eyes at him. “He means I don’t make it the moment I get out of bed.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Well, your mom and I have that in common. Unless I’m out on a job. I make my bed when I’m camping for work, because all it takes is one messy place and all of a sudden, your tent gets gross. But when I’m in an actual bed,” I shrug, “I don’t really care about it.”
“That’s funny. I would have thought he got that from you.”
“Nope. Seems like that’s his thing.”
Owen piles more spaghetti and meatballs onto his plate and bounces a little in his chair while he does it. Aria asks, “Are you going to eat any salad?”
He teases, “Nooo.”
“I will.” I grab the salad and make a nice stack of it, hoping to demonstrate better eating habits to Owen.
