Page 24 of Their Little House Boston (Five Little Roommates #3)
Tripp
Having my littles under my roof changed everything.
They brought such joy into the house, and reminded me of what had been missing in my life for so long.
I’d had littles before, but they’d never lived with me, and it had only been one at a time.
The frames they made the first night had pride of place on the mantel, one filled with a picture of the three of us and Juno, the other just our pup, drawn by Elliot because, as little Boston said, she was that important.
Every time I looked at those frames, I remembered the night they made them and no amount of glitter shed that had to be swept up mattered.
Even as we grew together, I’d been unprepared for how much they would change my life.
No more dinner meetings. They both had different schedules, but my day was eight hours and no more.
That way, I could go home for dinner with whichever of them was home or, if I was lucky, they both were.
And funny thing, when I told people I wasn’t available in the evening, that I was due home to my family, they always managed a daytime appointment.
It paid to be firm.
We tried to make it to Chained one night a week, two or three of us to play or just to visit with like-minded folks, went to playdates once or twice a month, and dated each other often.
But Saturday afternoons were for daddy/little play, and we did that in the new nursery. Completely magical times together.
“Daddy, we don’t have bubbles,” called Boston. “My duckies won’t get in the tub.”
“I’m sure we have some.” Mostly because I kept an extra bottle hidden away. Elliot and Boston had a tendency to pour way too much bubble bath into the water the second my back was turned.
“I found it, Boston,” Elliot called.
I’d already started the water and left for a moment to answer the phone, but when I reentered the bathroom, it was to find a bathtub crowned with mountains of bubbles and no littles in sight. Schooling my voice, I said, “Oh no. Boston and Elliot are missing, and I came in here to wash their hair.”
Giggles emerged from the depths of the tub. There was at least a half a bottle in there to create the effect, but it was worth it for their delight.
“Hmm, Daddy hears something, but I don’t see any little boys.
I’d better look for them.” I left the room, calling their names, and listening to their laughter behind me.
Returning to the bathroom, I sat down on the closed toilet seat and sighed.
“Oh well. I guess I’ll have to put posters up for missing little boys.
I hope they’ll be okay. They’re going to miss their favorite dinner. ”
They both surged upward, sending bubbles flying. Much easier to clean up on the tile than finger paints, clay or glitter, for sure. And their smiles were so broad, their eyes twinkling, it was the most fun even though it was a game they played often.
“We’re here, Daddy!” Boston crowed.
“We fooled you!” Elliot added.
“I see that!” Dropping to my knees, I soaped up a washcloth. “I’d better wash you both before you disappear again and miss your dinner entirely.”
Rubbing the soapy cloth over their skin, I told them how glad I was to find them safe and sound.
Then I passed out some new duckies and boats to add to their flotilla and distract them while I washed each boy’s hair.
Then I settled back to watch them play until the water cooled.
Once again, I blessed whoever put this tub in because we sure got a lot of use out of it.
Then I helped them out one by one, dried them carefully, and dressed them in footie jams. “Naptime, my bestest boys,” I said, guiding them into the nursery.
“Not sleepy, Daddy,” Boston said, rubbing his eyes.
“Then I guess you don’t want a bottle.” I shrugged, hiding my smile while they scrambled to their double crib and held their arms up for me to help them in.
Boston and Elliot cuddled together, and I handed them the bottles I’d prepared while they were looking for bubble bath. “You’re such good boys.”
Elliot pulled his bottle from his mouth. “Don’t go ’way, Daddy.”
“Never.” I kissed them each on the forehead and settled in the glider right next to the crib. “Story?”
Their library was growing all the time as they spotted books with beautiful illustrations and intriguing concepts.
As my boys drifted off into dreamland, I set the book on my lap and leaned my head back to rest my eyes for a few minutes.
Our Saturday afternoons were my favorite time of the week, but these two boys could sure make a daddy tired by the time they were over.
Not that I’d ever complain. In an hour or so, they’d be awake and wanting either nuggies or steak and shrimp, depending on whether they were still in little space. I was prepared to enjoy either.
After my nap.