But other than the clothes, her Little wasn’t that interested in any of it. She didn’t want him to be disappointed in her or to find her faulty, so she tried to play.
However, when she wasn’t reading or watching TV or playing on her phone, then all she wanted to do was curl up on Zander’s lap. Or by his feet. She hadn’t told him that yet. That she wanted to just sit and be still and not fret. To have him drop his finger so she could suck on it.
Tell him.
Was she a defective Little?
She loved the bubble baths he gave her. She could even get into playing with the bath toys. Something about baths managed to relax her enough to let everything else go.
Perhaps if there wasn’t so much for her to worry about, then things might be different.
“You’re coming to the meeting.”
“Nuh-uh.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My dolls want a tea party.”
“You hate tea parties.”
Yeah, she did. But her dolls seemed a bit sad.
“I think I might order you some Legos,” he muttered. “You might like to build things.”
She wasn’t sure she’d like that at all, and she knew that Legos were likely expensive.
“Are there any number games?” she asked.
“Number games?”
“Yeah, I don’t know if they exist, but I like games. And I like numbers. I liked learning poker.”
“You did, huh?”
“Do you know how to play?”
He looked thoughtful. “I do. Maybe we could get some board games. I think we have some in the common room.”
She nodded eagerly. “And what about puzzles? Like IQ puzzles.”
“I think we could get some of those.”
“Yay! Oh, and maybe you could show me how to bake. I’ve never been taught that. But I reckon I would be really good at decorating cupcakes.”
“To do that, you’d have to leave this room.”
She slumped back into the seat. He had a good point.
“Tell you what, if you come with me now to this meeting, I’ll make cupcakes afterward and you can decorate them however you like.”
Well . . . that was tempting.
But no.
She shook her head. “I’ll wait here, Daddy.”
He gave her a confused look. “Why don’t you want to leave the room, baby girl?”
She chewed her lip. “I just don’t want to.”
“That’s not an acceptable answer. Tell me.”