Don't Baby Me (Age-Regression)

Fifteen

I'm upset that he interrupted my sleep. That was such a good dream. My jar of fireflies was almost full too. Yawning, I rub my tired eyes and try to go back to sleep.

***

I awake sometime later to the sound of the front door behind opened. Sitting up, I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.

Looking to the front door, I see Dad walk in. He smiles at me when he sees me staring.

"Look who's woken up! I missed you, little lady." Dad states in his cheerful voice.

I hop off Lyle, running towards Dad. He lifts me up and presses a kiss to my cheek. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I give him a tight squeeze. I always miss Dad when he goes to work.

"I missed you too, Papa." I say softly, wrapping my legs around his belly.

"Did you have a good day with the guys and Mae? I see you got your feeding tube out, so that has to be good."

Nodding, I pull back so I can look Dad in the face as I talk, "Yeah, I gained a pound in a week, so the doctor said I could get it out. We also went to a cafe for lunch. I had a turkey sandwich and some macaroni and cheese."

I give him the full rundown on what we did today. Dad listens intently to every word I say. I love how he always listens to what I have to say. Even when I'm chatting about boring stuff like lunches and doctors visits.

"And then I came home and took a nap." I finish babbling.

"Sounds like you've had a busy day. My day was filled with boring paperwork and annoying clients." As he talks, Dad carries me into the kitchen.

He places me down on the counter while he fixes himself a snack. Dad always has a snack when he gets home from work. It's usually a sandwich with extra mayo and tomato.

"Do you want to help me chop the tomato?" Dad offers, pulling a cutting board out of the cabinet.

Nodding my head, I scoot over to where Dad is preparing to slice the tomato. He shows me how to properly hold the knife, then places his hand on top of mine, guiding me through the process.

This is always my favorite time of the day. Dad gets home from work at around four in the afternoon. Mom doesn't get home until nearly two hours later. Those couple hours are always my favorite.

Dad always makes time for me. Even after a stressful workday and the hassle of dealing with annoying customers, he makes these two hours special.

"Good job, Ayla!" He praises once we finish cutting the tomato.

He slaps it onto his sandwich and closes it, taking a big bite. Through a mouthful of food he says, "It tastes even better because we made it together."

I laugh and swing my legs. Dad does a happy dance as he eats, making me laugh even harder.

His phone suddenly vibrates against the counter and he sets his snack down, picking up the phone. "Hello?"

On the other end of the line I can faintly hear Mom's soft voice. She tells him that she'll be home later than usual and to order dinner.