“Hey now, what happened to one at a time?” I just giggled. My little was sweet with Dex. I could be a brat with the right play partners, but I never liked bratting with him. Not with my Daddy. I just wanted to be as sweet and cute as possible, and sometimes that meant overriding some of the routine ‘good girl’ programming and being a bit spontaneous. If anything, I was a rascal, not a brat. I was rambunctious and precocious in our play. After being comforted and calmed down, I was feeling more like playing now.
“But Daddy! You said I was Super-Girl, and Super-Girl can fly!”
“Super Girls need to be careful though, or else you’d have a Super-Girl Band-Aid on a skinned knee. That doesn’t sound fun does it?”
“I won’t get hurt Daddy, nothing hurts Super-Girl!” I posed, fists on my hips, chest puffed out, head cocked skywards and legs spread wide, well wider, in a heroic pose. Daddy grinned. He was up to no good.
“But Rachey didn’t you know? Our new house has floors made of Kryptonite!” Now he bounded down those last two stairs and took he in his arms, swinging me in a circle. No mean feet considering that I’m only 4 inches shorter than his six foot frame and he may only have 30 pounds on me. Even if he only manages to get me three or so inches off the ground, this is still one of my favorite things that he does. I giggled and squealed as he managed to execute maybe two and three quarters rotations before having to set me back down.
“See there, if Super-Girl had her powers, she could have fought off Dex Luthor, but lo these kryptonite tile floors.” His face was pink from exertion and his breath was heaving very slightly but behind his glasses I saw his beautiful dark roast eyes and saw the joy and the love. I melted and, as he still held me close, kissed him fully on the mouth. When we at last separated, he looked me over before going back into Daddy voice, the husky remnants of Dex voice still in his throat, “Uh-Oh, looks like someone had just a bit too much fun.”
My formerly fresh diaper had a small, faint yellow spot, “Uh-Ohs!” I childishly sing-songed, giggling all the while.
“That’s alright cutie, that’s what it’s there for. It was only a little accident, lets have our dinner and put in a movie. You wanna watch Ponies tonight?” That sounded fine to me, not only was My Little Pony a fine enough show that hit my nostalgia centers as an adult, but little Rachey was nuts for it. Dex, being a bit of a closet brony himself, also dug the show. To say it was a household favorite undersold it.
“Ponies!” I cheered, “Ponies! Ponies! Ponies! What do we want? Ponies! When do we want ’em? No-”.
“After pizza.” Dex interjected into my protest chant. Come on, every minute you waste it just gets more and more burnt.” I hated burned pizza, so I hopped to it and ran, diaper crinkling loudly the whole way, to our combination kitchen and dining room. Dex followed after. He pulled the pizza off the over rack and quickly cut our pepperoni covered delight into eight equal pieces. He then took two, and cut them further into bite sized pieces perfect for a child. He dropped three pieces down on one of our earthen-ware ‘adult’ plates before moving the small cut up bites to my plastic ‘Frozen’ kids plate. I was in my chair, squirming restlessly while he did this, belting out the lyrics to a song from a video I watched as a girl over and over again.
“P-I-ZZ-A. Gimme Pizza!” When Dex was finished, he didn’t bring the plates to the table.
“I thought we might eat in the living room. Pizza and Ponies after all?” I knew he wanted to watch My Little Pony as much as I did. I rose from my seat and followed him into the living room.