Baby on Board

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Now, however, I was going into Dad Mode and I wasn't liking it. This morning, over breakfast, Martha thought it was ok to go into detail about this Will guy, telling me how amazing he was, how his kisses were always passionate and how they were going out on a date tonight. 

Odeon Leicester Square. 8:25. Transformers: The Last Knight. 

Of all the details Martha was sharing, those three bits were the only things that I remembered. I think it goes without saying that no father wants to know that Will copped a feel on their last date, which, by the way, was spent at a coffee shop where his previous love interest worked. Honestly, I think my daughter could do so much better than that. 

This all, of course, goes a long way in explaining why I wanted to go to the cinema tonight. Lottie, however, was unimpressed by my suggestion and told me in no uncertain terms that she would NOT be accompanying me to spy on my daughter. 

"I think 'spy' is such a strong word," I explain, holding up an index finger so that Lottie knew just how serious I was being. "I like to think of it as more... uh, what's the word?"

"Spying." Honestly, Lottie just wasn't getting this at all.

"Undercover surveillance!" I proclaim clicking my fingers when the terminology comes back to me. "I just want to make sure that nothing untoward happens, that's all. I would do exactly the same for Nugget."

I don't think I should have brought up the baby because every time I did, Lottie would go into Mama Bear Mode and basically lecture me on how she would do everything differently to me. "Kids need to make their own mistakes and learn from them," Lottie says, putting on her maternal voice and speaking to me like a mother admonishes her child. I did not like it at all. It made me feel like what I was doing was wrong. I think it's perfectly reasonable to do some undercover surveillance on Martha. "Plus, not to be rude or anything here, but I deserve my own date night instead of crashing Martha's. So, how about we ditch the spying and we go out for food, whisper sweet nothings as we come home, and then proceed to have really dirty, hot, steaming sex."

As a man, the promise of sex was alluring as hell. What red blooded male would give up that opportunity? I knew that Lottie was using it as a weapon against me but I was a defenceless opponent who could easily be swayed. I nodded.

"Fine," I grumbled as I gave in. I hated caving in for Lottie. But I love having sex with her, so, you know... "But this time, you're on top. I'm getting really bored of seeing the back of your head. No offence."

Lottie cringes. "I don't want to be on top. I look fat when I'm on top and that just grosses you out. It's like you can see my triple chin."

Ok, so the prize for the craziest person officially went to Lottie. She has such a complex about her appearance when she really has nothing to worry about. I've told her so many times that she's absolutely beautiful; if anything, I find her much more attractive now than I ever did before. She hasn't gained any excess weight at all and she only has one chin, but whenever I try to tell her this now, she thinks I'm lying to her. 

Getting up from the chair opposite her, I circle the desk and spin her computer chair until she's facing me. Crouching down, I use my index finger to lift her chin so that I can see those beautiful blue-green eyes of hers. "Charlotte, I don't know how many more times I need to tell you this before you understand, but I have never seen anyone more perfect than you. Everything you do mesmerises me, from the way you laugh and smile to the way you dance around the kitchen on Sunday mornings when you think I'm still asleep. I love the way you goof around and you're totally at ease with yourself and around me. You don't pretend to be someone you're not; a lot of people try too hard but you never do. You're the perfect amount of everything and I crave you all the time. You drive me insane, Lottie, even when you're not around. Thinking of you makes me want to be with you.