Morning, baby. What are you asking Santa for this year?” Bella asked as she entered the kitchen to find her son, Mikey, making out his Christmas list.
“It’s a secret,” he replied quickly, shielding the sheet of paper with his arms when she leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "Don't look!"
She chuckled softly and made her way to the coffee pot to get her morning fully started. “Sorry, won’t happen again.”
“Well,” he sighed, his face twisting in contemplation. “I guess I can tell you, since it’s for you, too.”
Bella thought over her son's words, even more suspicious to the contents of the list. “Michael Evan, I have told you a hundred times that we are not getting a dog. We don’t have the space in this apartment,” she scolded in a firm voice, shaking her head and waiting for the pleading to begin.
“Mom,” he groaned, his head falling back dramatically and causing his blond mop of hair to bounce lightly with the movement. “I know. I’m not asking for a dog.”
“Oh. I see,” she replied, surprised. “So, what is it?”
Mikey turned in his seat to look at her with an expression on his face she’d never seen. “A daddy.”
* * *
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