Page 17 of Daddy’s Little Camping Trip (Found by Daddy #14)

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“I never thought I’d…I never thought I’d say this”—I reached for Daddy G’s hand—“but I’m not ready to go home from camping.”

“Well, then, I have some good news for you.” He pulled me in for a hug, his lips close to my ear. “They told me we could stay another night if we wanted to. What do you say? Want to spend another night in the dome?”

“Absolutely.”

We spent the day just soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying each other’s company. Two non-campers discovering camping—glamping. It was a wonderful day and an even better night.

But the next morning, reality hit, and we had to go our separate ways. We had responsibilities to get back to, and while we both agreed that we wanted to last beyond this time, we weren’t going to know what this would look like until it actually happened.

As soon as I got home, I threw all my clothes into the washer, not even bothering to separate them—the fear of bringing home extra bugs enough to have me not worry about color bleeding.

Then I sprayed my suitcases down with Lysol and returned the sleeping bag to Mr. Robinson with a bag of teas from his favorite tea shop.

Wasn’t easy getting back into the hustle and bustle of work after days of being screen-free and relaxed, but I managed.

The other thing I meant to do was stay in contact with Daddy G.

We talked on the phone, we texted, we even video chatted.

And the next weekend, we went on our first date that wasn’t surrounded by bugs.

I took him to my favorite hot pot place, and we ate and laughed, and all my fear that what we had was the magic of the moment fell away. The two of us had something special together, and we were going to make it.

A couple of weeks went by—weeks filled with work and dinners out, walks in the park, and random big kind of dating scenarios—but tonight, we were going to have our first daddy/little night.

We talked about going back to Chained, where we’d met, and enjoying the little room, surrounded by people we knew and others we didn’t.

But, in the end, we opted to go to his place. I had known what to expect, but I carried my backpack in, filled with my little gear, and immediately saw how much effort he put into making the space little-friendly for the night.

On the counter were multiple sippy cups—one of them with a bear, of course. Huge pillows were on the floor for me to sit and watch cartoons, if I wanted to. The coffee table had some coloring books with crayons on it. There were stuffies on the couch and even a bucket of blocks.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” I hugged him close.

“Of course I did, my sweet boy. Let me show you around.”

And at first, I suspected that these were little items he had because he was a daddy. He would have things for when he played. But it quickly became apparent that he’d not only set this up for me—he’d bought all of these items for today. This was a special little time just for us.

And suddenly, I wished that I hadn’t brought clothes that I’d worn before—not in front of anyone else.

“Hey, sweet boy, tell Daddy what’s going on.” He suddenly got very serious. Of course he noticed. He was paying attention. When I was with him, it was like I was—

“I wish I brought new clothes for you, Daddy. You got all special for me, and I just picked out something that looked comfortable.”

“You don’t need to buy special clothes for me. I think you’ve looked adorable every time I’ve seen you little. And your styles change.”

“You see me, Daddy, don’t you?”

“Only you.” He kissed my cheek. “There’s one last thing I want to show you.”

He led me to the bathroom, and there on the counter was a pair of Fuji jams—and not just any jams. Zbear jams. “I didn’t know if you like this kind, the ones with the hoods, but they were so adorable I couldn’t help myself.

I thought maybe after you took a bath, you could wear that and color while I cook dinner for you. ”

I picked the jams up and hugged them close.

“I love them so much.” And I did. Not just because they were adorable—which they were—and not because they were soft or kind of fit our relationship. I loved his gift because it was special, just between the two of us.

“I’ll take that as a yes, sweet boy.” He tapped my nose then turned on the taps. “Why don’t we get you ready for your bath while it fills up?”

I nodded and walked out into the main bedroom, where it would be easier to get undressed, but it was hard to remember that we had a tub waiting for us. I wanted to launch myself at him.

Before the night was over, I probably would. But, for now, this time was special just as it was.

I hadn’t seen Daddy add the bubble bath, but when we got back into the bathroom, the tub was just about filled and there were bubbles galore. He tested the water, and, once he’d deemed it the perfect temperature, he helped me climb inside and sink into the warm suds.

It felt so decadent—and it was only the beginning.

He washed me from head to toe, careful not to get certain parts of me too excited—but also not ignoring them—keeping me close to the edge.

And then came the toys. There weren’t a lot of them: a plastic measuring cup, a rubber duckie designed to look like a bear, and a little squirting fish. But they were all I needed.

I played sink the duck using the measuring cup. Unsuccessfully, but I tried. I squirted the fishy, tried to get the duckie to capsize the way our kayak nearly did. And I listened to Daddy make up a story about the little ducky bear.

I could’ve stayed in there all day if the water hadn’t started to turn cold. But that was fine. We had plans.

Daddy helped me get out of the tub and dried me off, helping me slip into my new jams. And then, while I sat in front of him, coloring, he dried my hair—first with a towel and then with a low hairdryer, careful to stroke my head the way I liked.

It was so easy sinking into little space while he did that. And the next thing I knew, I was finishing my picture and dinner was on the table: my favorite—chicken nuggies, and veggies cut in all sorts of fun shapes that made them enjoyable to eat, despite some of them being green.

We spent the evening playing together and watching TV.

I’d been little, or known I was little, for many years. I played with friends, and I played with mommies and daddies, but I’d never been so deep into little space as I was that night.

And I owed it all to Daddy G.

He knew exactly what I needed.

He said it was because I communicated and he listened, and there was some truth in that. But it was more than that. Because communication alone wasn’t enough to free me into this little space.

Daddy being who he was and making me feel so completely safe—that did. And that was 100 percent Daddy G.

“Night, Daddy G.” I snuggled onto his chest and in bed after falling asleep watching my favorite show for the third time. “Thank you for the perfect night. Thank you for being you.”

He ran his hand over the back of my head. “My sweet, sweet boy.”