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“Your Daddy made us pancakes.”
“Really? I love pancakes,” she exclaims.
Raf helps her onto a chair while I put a couple of pancakes onto her plate.
We all start eating, making small talk—or, rather, listening to Malia as she speaks. She’s so energetic and talkative that I can’t help but stare in awe at her.
She tells us about her favorite cartoons and games, and what her favorite pastimes are. Both Raf and I listen raptly, taking notes to make sure we get everything for her.
“You didn’t bring any toys. Would you like to go buy some?”
“No,” she states. “Toys are for kids,” she answers with a straight face.
Raf and I look at each other in confusion.
“You’re a kid, too,” I remark gently.
She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she humphs out loud.
“You’re superheroes. Then I’m a super kid, too.” She points out as if we should have already known that.
“Oh. That’s right.” Raf nods. “But even super kids play. You can get a super toy, how does that sound?”
She’s pensive for a moment.
“Maybe a doll,” she eventually says.
“Whatever you want, baby. You know you can have anything, no?”
She blinks, studying us for a moment. A smile spreads on her face as she nods.
We continue eating and Raf and I share a look. It seems that for all her boldness, our little girl is wary about not being special enough for us.
After we’re done with our breakfast, Raf stays behind to clean up while I help Malia change into a new outfit for our trip upstate. I don’t know how, but Raf managed to convince a real estate agent to show us some houses last minute.
“What dress do you want to wear, baby?” I lay out all her dresses on the bed, letting her choose. She goes straight to a black one with red polka dots, proving that she is in fact my daughter.
I grin at the irony.
“So, you like black?”
She nods vigorously, and once her dress is on, she does a little pirouette.
I rummage through my closet and find a dress that’s the most similar to hers and I put it on. When she sees that we match, she comes to my side, jumping up and down.
“We’re the same,” she exclaims excitedly—although, it does seem that her default mode is to be excited about anything and everything.
Once we’re all ready and dressed, we head down to the parking lot where I am surprised to see a new car—one with a child’s seat, too.
I turn to look at Raf, and he gives me a sheepish smile.
“I got up early.” He shrugs.
“What didn’t you think of?” I ask in wonder.
He got food, made breakfast, secured a real estate agent, and now he even got us a new car.
“Malia’s right. Youarea superman.” I wink at him.
