‘Peanut butter, check. Two slices of bread, check. Butter knife, check. Put it all together and you get Daddy’s lunch!’ the small child told exclaimed to herself. She beamed at the bright blue plastic plate on which her creation sat, waiting to be eaten.
“Daddy! Daddyyyyyyyy!” she yelled as she pulled the milk jug from the refrigerator and sat it on the ground. She scuttled to the counter and climbed her way up to the cabinet to retrieve a cup. She decided that her Daddy could drink from her favorite cup, a short but wide plastic cup with a smiling storm cloud that had a single chunky and utterly cartoon thunder bolt coming out of it. She grabbed the cup and placed it in front of the milk jug. She got down on her knees and used both arms to poor her Daddy the cup of milk, trying her best not to spill any of it.
“Whatcha doin’ milk dud?” Logan rasped as he stood in the kitchen doorway in socks, navy blue boxer-briefs, and a white slingshot. The tiny child picked up the cup of milk and grabbed the sandwich from the counter, on her tip toes, and beamed up at her father as she took it to him.
“I made you lunch, Daddy. All by myself.” The child stressed the last part of her statement proudly.
Logan smiled in wonder at the little child that he’d helped create. Every day it amazed him more that something so fragile and beautiful could come from a man like him. Every day she swelled his heart with more love than he thought any man could feel, much less a man with a past like his. It amused him to no end that she was like an exact clone in looks to his wife and yet she had all of his mannerisms, down to his devilish grin.
“Are you sure you did that all by yourself?” he taunted as he scooped her up onto his hip.
“Uh-Huh.” She nodded her head vigorously.
He walked them into the dining room and sat her down in the seat next to his. As he bit into the sandwich, which the small girl had cut in half for him, he made sure to keep a neutral face. She peered at him with large expectant eyes.
“Well? It’s good, huh?” she tilted her head and cracked her neck in anticipation, another of his habits.
He smiled as best he could with the moth full of peanut butter sandwich and tweaked the child’s nose. She giggled and batted at his hand. Her smile warming him. Her laugh bouncing off the walls of the house and tickling him with its innocence.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I own nothing, except Charlie. I made her up. Oh and the house they live in as well. Read and Review >:O
Chapter End Notes:
R&R Kaythanx. Hope you liked it.
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