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Being good was very hard.
“What are you thinking?” Boyd glanced over at me as he turned in the opposite direction of my place.
He asked, so I could answer. “That being good is hard and I really hope it’s worth it.”
Chuckling, Boyd shook his head. “You really struggle with presents.”
“And surprises and patience.” There was no point in lying about that if I wanted an actual relationship with Boyd. “Christmas is difficult.”
He tried to cover his laughter with a cough, but it didn’t really work. “Then I’ll do my best to make sure surprises and presents are worth it.”
“They don’t have to be big. One book you picked out would be very nice. A small bunch of flowers you picked. Don’t forget my neighbor makes them grow out of season, so I don’t think you should ever have to pay for flowers. Oh, and I like peanut M&M’s.”
Making him guess about what to give me seemed counterproductive.
He made a thinking sound as we turned again. “Any allergies?”
“Oh, that’s a good question. No.” Boyd was very smart.
“Favorite color?” He laughed when I scrunched up my face.
“Colors are hard. They’re all very nice. Like books. But I always end up with a lot of brown. That’s a nice color too, though. So anything that goes with brown?” I got distracted as we pulled into a slightly overgrown driveway and ended up in front of a wonderful Craftsman home with a beautifully deep porch. “Oh, you have a swing.”
That was a very Daddy thing to have.
“It’s got pillows too.” Boyd sounded like he was trying not to laugh again, but I was still too focused on the house to really notice. “I like brown and I think it’s a good favorite color to have.”
His smile made him look like he was barely holding back giggles.
What was so funny?
“I’m pretty sure favorite colors are supposed to be brighter. That’s what my mother said.” She always seemed to be right about odd things like that, so I’d stopped arguing with her. It was just too hard to research appropriate favorite colors and she was always so confident.
“No, I think you could even say black, but brown is much better, so I’m not going to change my mind.” Boyd sounded very confident too…and he was still finding something very funny.
What was so funny?
Oh, Daddy was brown…well, hisdragonwas a mix of browns and golds.
Shoot.
His eyes twinkled as that realization dawned on me, but he didn’t call me out. “And as a Daddy, it’s my right to declare myself correct.”
I liked that logic as long as he only used it against my family.
“What are the rules for that?” Yes, I needed to know the details so I could figure out a way around it. “You can’t just make up rules willy-nilly.”
A grin flashed across his face before it was gone in a split second. “Yes, I can. That’s another rule.”
Boyd looked like he was bouncing as he got out of the car. “And I’m not sure good boys argue with their Daddies.”
Oh, he was sneaky.
Argue about his silly rules and risk not getting my present or let him think I’d agreed to his silly rules?
What would Kenzie do?
Distract his Daddy…of course.
