Sawyer strolls over and ruffles his hair, then snags a cookie. “Good job, bud.”
“Magic cookies, Daddy,” he says, eyes wide. “We didn’t cut them.”
Sawyer and I exchange a look over his head, equally confused, until I finally get it.
“He means the tubes of cookie dough you buy at the store,” I fill in as Jake takes off again, coming back with a piece of construction paper that he carefully folds in half before asking for a pencil. I hand him one as I clean up the cookie mess and pop another tray in the oven while Sawyer eyes my ass and answers Jake’s spelling questions.
A few minutes later Jake puts down his pencil and slides the paper over to me. I pick it up. He’s made me a card.
Thanks Everly
for the cookies!!!
next can I have
Mr. pants please!!!
I think the drawing on the front is a bookshelf. I open the card and find the following inside.
no!? yes!!!!!
I determine that he wants another Mr. Pants book. We read them together all the time. It’s a chapter book series about cats and he’s obsessed with them.
I pick up the pencil and circle yes before sliding the card back over. “Of course we can, Jake. Maybe we can go to the bookstore before dinner.”
“He has the entire series,” Sawyer says, leaning over and looking at the card. “The next book isn’t out until June. I keep explaining to him that we have all of them already.”
Shit. I just promised something I can’t deliver.
“Oh, Mr. Pants!” I exclaim, stalling while I think of a solution. “I thought you meant a real cat. My bad!”
The second the words are out of my mouth I realize what I’ve just said. So does Jake because he lights up like I’ve just promised him his own cat. Double shit.
“I’m getting a cat?” His eyes are wide and he drops the card on the counter. “I’m getting a kitty!” And with that he drops the card and takes off down the hall to his bedroom yelling about finding his shoes. He’s back a moment later with his tie in one hand, shoes in the other. “Ready!”
Sawyer just looks at me, shaking his head.
“Well…” I drum my fingers on the granite. “You didn’t really think me as a parent was going to be all smooth sailing, did you?”
An hour later we’re the proud parents of Shaggy, a two-year-old long-haired calico cat. She was still there, in that pet shop on Baltimore, waiting for us. I didn’t expect her to be there weeks later. I thought we’d pop in and see who they had available, but there she was, looking like she’d been waiting her whole life for Jake to show up. Jake’s lip quivered when he was able to pet her for the first time.
“I can keep her for reals?” he’d asked, tears running down his face.
When we get back to the condo, I let her out of the carrier and explain to Jake that Shaggy’s been through a lot, so it might take her a bit to understand that this is her forever home now. Jake nods and tells me that he’s going to call her Mr. Pants.
I agree that obviously, that’s what we’ll call her. Then he runs off dragging a feather toy so Shaggy, Mr. Pants, follows.
“So today went well, I think,” I say, glancing away from Sawyer guiltily.
“Hmm,” he replies, circling the kitchen island towards me, a predatory look on his face.
I squeak and try to outrun him but he’s on me in a second, tickling me while I try and wiggle away, crying mercy.
Jake thinks this is hysterical and joins in, giggling so hard I’m afraid he might pee.
Sawyer lets me free as Jake asks how long I can stay.
“I can stay till your bedtime, bud.” Hopefully a couple hours past, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Magic cookies, Daddy,” he says, eyes wide. “We didn’t cut them.”
Sawyer and I exchange a look over his head, equally confused, until I finally get it.
“He means the tubes of cookie dough you buy at the store,” I fill in as Jake takes off again, coming back with a piece of construction paper that he carefully folds in half before asking for a pencil. I hand him one as I clean up the cookie mess and pop another tray in the oven while Sawyer eyes my ass and answers Jake’s spelling questions.
A few minutes later Jake puts down his pencil and slides the paper over to me. I pick it up. He’s made me a card.
Thanks Everly
for the cookies!!!
next can I have
Mr. pants please!!!
I think the drawing on the front is a bookshelf. I open the card and find the following inside.
no!? yes!!!!!
I determine that he wants another Mr. Pants book. We read them together all the time. It’s a chapter book series about cats and he’s obsessed with them.
I pick up the pencil and circle yes before sliding the card back over. “Of course we can, Jake. Maybe we can go to the bookstore before dinner.”
“He has the entire series,” Sawyer says, leaning over and looking at the card. “The next book isn’t out until June. I keep explaining to him that we have all of them already.”
Shit. I just promised something I can’t deliver.
“Oh, Mr. Pants!” I exclaim, stalling while I think of a solution. “I thought you meant a real cat. My bad!”
The second the words are out of my mouth I realize what I’ve just said. So does Jake because he lights up like I’ve just promised him his own cat. Double shit.
“I’m getting a cat?” His eyes are wide and he drops the card on the counter. “I’m getting a kitty!” And with that he drops the card and takes off down the hall to his bedroom yelling about finding his shoes. He’s back a moment later with his tie in one hand, shoes in the other. “Ready!”
Sawyer just looks at me, shaking his head.
“Well…” I drum my fingers on the granite. “You didn’t really think me as a parent was going to be all smooth sailing, did you?”
An hour later we’re the proud parents of Shaggy, a two-year-old long-haired calico cat. She was still there, in that pet shop on Baltimore, waiting for us. I didn’t expect her to be there weeks later. I thought we’d pop in and see who they had available, but there she was, looking like she’d been waiting her whole life for Jake to show up. Jake’s lip quivered when he was able to pet her for the first time.
“I can keep her for reals?” he’d asked, tears running down his face.
When we get back to the condo, I let her out of the carrier and explain to Jake that Shaggy’s been through a lot, so it might take her a bit to understand that this is her forever home now. Jake nods and tells me that he’s going to call her Mr. Pants.
I agree that obviously, that’s what we’ll call her. Then he runs off dragging a feather toy so Shaggy, Mr. Pants, follows.
“So today went well, I think,” I say, glancing away from Sawyer guiltily.
“Hmm,” he replies, circling the kitchen island towards me, a predatory look on his face.
I squeak and try to outrun him but he’s on me in a second, tickling me while I try and wiggle away, crying mercy.
Jake thinks this is hysterical and joins in, giggling so hard I’m afraid he might pee.
Sawyer lets me free as Jake asks how long I can stay.
“I can stay till your bedtime, bud.” Hopefully a couple hours past, but he doesn’t need to know that.
