Page 35
Story: Novo
"It's just a delivery," he called to me, opening the door to accept several large packages from someone who wore the same jacket I'd seen Daddy wear. I perked up, curious. "What is it, Daddy?"
"Packages," Daddy answered, carrying several large boxes inside. "Special delivery for you, little one."
My eyes widened. "For me?" Nobody ever sent me packages anymore. Harold had stopped even acknowledging my birthday years ago.
"Yep," Daddy confirmed, setting the boxes on the coffee table. "Want to see what's inside after breakfast?"
I nodded eagerly, suddenly more interested in the mysterious packages than the pancakes. "Can we open them now?"
Daddy chuckled, returning to the stove. "Patience, sweetheart. Pancakes first, then presents."
"Presents," I whispered, hugging Patches tightly. "Did you hear that? We got presents."
Daddy flipped the last pancake onto a stack and brought two plates to the counter. Mine had blueberries arranged in a smiley face, while his were plain. A small separate plate held two mini pancakes with chocolate chips.
"For Patches," Daddy explained when I looked at the tiny pancakes.
My heart swelled with happiness. Daddy remembered Patches needed breakfast too. I carefully set the small plate in front of my stuffed friend, making sure he could "see" his special breakfast.
"Thank you, Daddy," I said, pouring syrup liberally over my pancakes.
"You're welcome, baby boy," he replied, watching me with a soft expression I couldn't quite read.
I devoured my breakfast, suddenly ravenous. Daddy ate more slowly, his eyes rarely leaving my face. When I finished, and helped Patches eat his, I bounced impatiently on my stool.
"Presents now?" I asked hopefully.
“Little boys need to wash their sticky hands and brush their teeth,” Daddy scolded and led me to the bathroom, but then, when I was sure I was going to die from waiting what had to be a hundred years, he finally led me to the sofa.
I scurried to the coffee table, Patches tucked under my arm. The boxes were wrapped in plain brown paper, but I didn't care. Presents were presents.
"Which one first?" Daddy asked, sitting beside me on the couch.
I pointed to the largest box. "That one."
Daddy helped me tear away the paper, then used a pocketknife to cut through the tape. I gasped as he opened the flaps to reveal the colorful contents inside.
"Oh," I whispered, pulling out a soft fleece blanket with dinosaurs printed all over it. "It's so soft."
"There's more," Daddy encouraged, reaching into the box.
Together, we unpacked a set of dinosaur-themed pajamas, a night-light shaped like a stegosaurus, and several picture books about—you guessed it—dinosaurs.
"Do you like dinosaurs?" Daddy asked, watching my delighted expression.
"I love them," I confirmed, hugging the blanket to my chest. "T-Rex is my favorite. He's the king."
Daddy smiled. "Well, let's see what else we have."
The second box contained art supplies—crayons, colored pencils, markers, and a stack of coloring books. There was even aset of washable paints with thick brushes, and plenty of painting paper.
"You can draw pictures for the fridge," Daddy suggested, helping me arrange the supplies on the coffee table.
"Can I color now?" I asked eagerly.
"In a little bit. Let's see what else we have first."
The third box made me squeal with delight. Inside was a teddy bear almost as big as Patches, but newer and fluffier. It wore a little leather vest that almost matched Daddy's.
"Packages," Daddy answered, carrying several large boxes inside. "Special delivery for you, little one."
My eyes widened. "For me?" Nobody ever sent me packages anymore. Harold had stopped even acknowledging my birthday years ago.
"Yep," Daddy confirmed, setting the boxes on the coffee table. "Want to see what's inside after breakfast?"
I nodded eagerly, suddenly more interested in the mysterious packages than the pancakes. "Can we open them now?"
Daddy chuckled, returning to the stove. "Patience, sweetheart. Pancakes first, then presents."
"Presents," I whispered, hugging Patches tightly. "Did you hear that? We got presents."
Daddy flipped the last pancake onto a stack and brought two plates to the counter. Mine had blueberries arranged in a smiley face, while his were plain. A small separate plate held two mini pancakes with chocolate chips.
"For Patches," Daddy explained when I looked at the tiny pancakes.
My heart swelled with happiness. Daddy remembered Patches needed breakfast too. I carefully set the small plate in front of my stuffed friend, making sure he could "see" his special breakfast.
"Thank you, Daddy," I said, pouring syrup liberally over my pancakes.
"You're welcome, baby boy," he replied, watching me with a soft expression I couldn't quite read.
I devoured my breakfast, suddenly ravenous. Daddy ate more slowly, his eyes rarely leaving my face. When I finished, and helped Patches eat his, I bounced impatiently on my stool.
"Presents now?" I asked hopefully.
“Little boys need to wash their sticky hands and brush their teeth,” Daddy scolded and led me to the bathroom, but then, when I was sure I was going to die from waiting what had to be a hundred years, he finally led me to the sofa.
I scurried to the coffee table, Patches tucked under my arm. The boxes were wrapped in plain brown paper, but I didn't care. Presents were presents.
"Which one first?" Daddy asked, sitting beside me on the couch.
I pointed to the largest box. "That one."
Daddy helped me tear away the paper, then used a pocketknife to cut through the tape. I gasped as he opened the flaps to reveal the colorful contents inside.
"Oh," I whispered, pulling out a soft fleece blanket with dinosaurs printed all over it. "It's so soft."
"There's more," Daddy encouraged, reaching into the box.
Together, we unpacked a set of dinosaur-themed pajamas, a night-light shaped like a stegosaurus, and several picture books about—you guessed it—dinosaurs.
"Do you like dinosaurs?" Daddy asked, watching my delighted expression.
"I love them," I confirmed, hugging the blanket to my chest. "T-Rex is my favorite. He's the king."
Daddy smiled. "Well, let's see what else we have."
The second box contained art supplies—crayons, colored pencils, markers, and a stack of coloring books. There was even aset of washable paints with thick brushes, and plenty of painting paper.
"You can draw pictures for the fridge," Daddy suggested, helping me arrange the supplies on the coffee table.
"Can I color now?" I asked eagerly.
"In a little bit. Let's see what else we have first."
The third box made me squeal with delight. Inside was a teddy bear almost as big as Patches, but newer and fluffier. It wore a little leather vest that almost matched Daddy's.
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