Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 124140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Oh no, Papi,” she gasped.
“What is it?”
“There’s no red velvet. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s a grave disappointment,” he told her from where he sat on the rug on the floor. “But I suppose I can have chocolate.”
“Thanks for your sacrifice, Papi. I know how hard it is not to get what you want.”
“Do you, mocosa?” he asked with clear amusement. “Because it seems to me that you always get what you want.”
“Papi! That’s not true. If I got everything I wanted, I’d be able to stay up all night, eat bread and butter for dinner, and use a skateboard as my main mode of transport. Um, I’m wondering how you feel about putting a water slide down the stairs? Because that would be sooo much fun.”
“Are you really wondering? Or do you know the answer?” He took the cupcake she handed him, pretending to eat it. Then he screwed his face up. “Did you put salt instead of sugar in this cupcake?”
“Papi, are you insulting my cooking skills?” She gasped dramatically. “I wouldn’t do that!”
“You did it yesterday when Bernard was trying to teach you to bake cupcakes.”
Oh, yeah. Alejandro had lifted the ban on cooking as long as Doomy Gloomy supervised.
“He was being mean.”
“How?”
“He wouldn’t let me lick the spoon!”
“He was in the middle of using it.”
“Whose side are you on, Papi?” She huffed out a breath. “He deserved salty cupcakes. Although, I wish there was a way to only salt his cupcakes. Anyway, I didn’t do that to these ones. See?” She took the plastic cupcake and pretended to bite into it. “Yum-yum-yummy.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure if I believe you. I think you might be a tricky little trickster.” He reached for her, pulling her down next to him on the rug on the floor so he could tickle her.
“Mercy, Papi! Mercy!”
“There is no mercy!” he cried.
A knock on the door had them both freezing. She stared over at the door with a frown.
“It’s all right, Pequeña,” he told her soothingly. “That’s just our lunch.”
“What has Doomy Gloomy made for us today? Deathly deviled eggs? Graveyard gnocchi?”
He shook his head at her silliness before opening the door. Thankfully, Bernard wasn’t on the other side. He knew how to make himself scarce when he wanted to. Alejandro picked up the tray and carried it into the playroom.
His hair was still a bit wet from his earlier shower and she swore she could see a blob of pink still in it. But she wasn’t going to tell him.
Nuh-uh, she didn’t want to have to write more lines.
He set the tray of food down on the rug in the middle of the room.
“Come eat your lunch.”
“Is it butter and bread?” she asked.
“Yep.”
She perked up. “Really?”
“Uh-huh, with ham, cheese, and lettuce, too.”
She groaned. Doomy Gloomy really had it out for her. Why couldn’t he have stayed at the market?
“I’m not hungry, Papi.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Papi, how do you know what my tummy feels? It might be full. You don’t know.”
“I do know. A Papi always knows. Come here and I’ll have a listen.”
She gave him a suspicious look, but walked over to him. Kneeling, he pressed his ear to her tummy. Then he leaned back and looked up at her. “Wow, I’ve never heard a tummy roar that much! It sounds like a dragon!”
She giggled. “Silly Papi.”
“Sit down while I find a bib to put on you.” He stood.
“I donts need a bib!”
“We don’t want to get your new dress dirty, though, do we?” She was wearing a large dress that was slightly fluffy and had a picture of a dragon flying with a warrior princess riding it.
She loved it.
“I know what to do, Papi! I just won’t eat.”
“Nice try.” He turned away and walked over to the set of drawers where he’d placed some of her clothes and Little supplies. There were extra pacifiers for those days she tended to feel younger. Bibs. Bottles. Fluffy socks, which she’d discovered that she loved. There were even some thicker ruffle pants that went over your panties. Or diapers. But she didn’t go that young.
While he had his back turned, she skipped back to her kitchen. Hmm, what could she make? Maybe some donuts. She loved donuts.
“Pequeña, what are you doing? You’re meant to be sitting and eating your lunch.”
“Don’t want any.”
“That wasn’t an option. Come eat.”
“No, Papi!” She stomped her foot for emphasis. “I’m not hungry.”
His gaze narrowed. “Hmm. I think someone is feeling a bit too sassy. You might think you’re not hungry, but I know that in half an hour you will be asking me for a snack.” He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Then he crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”
She glanced down at her traitor feet as they moved toward him. “Stupid feet! Walk the other way.”