Page 32 of Lulu’s Recipe for Cajun Sass

“I’m Adèle, but you kin call me Addie. I’m almos’ five years old.”

Am I supposed to give her my age, too? Or tell her to call me by some nickname, like Jus, or Justy, or Doc?

Nah, he decided, and instead asked her, “What do you want for breakfast, Addie?”

“Coush-coush.”

“I’m afraid that’s beyond my culinary abilities.”

“Huh?”

He opened the fridge door, scanned the contents, and said, “How about bacon and scrambled eggs?”

She nodded vigorously.

While he was frying the bacon and scrambling the eggs and toasting five slices of bread, enough for all of them, in the event Louise got up soon, he carried on the most bizarre conversation. Adèle skittered from one subject to another, like popcorn on a hot griddle. Maybe this type of dialogue was normal for an almost-five-year-old, but it was beyond his experience.

“I like to color. Do you like to color?” she asked.

“I did when I was a kid, I suppose.”

“We kin color after breakfas’.”

Great! “That would be nice.”

“Are you Tante Lulu’s boyfriend?”

Hopefully. “Maybe.”

“Boys like to kiss girls. Do you like to kiss girls?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Blech! Miss Dawkins has big boobies.”

“Who?”

“Miss Dawkins. She’s gonna be my kindergarten teacher.”

Please don’t ask me if I like big boobies. “You said you were almost five years old. When’s your birthday?”

“In this many days,” she said, opening and closing her fists two times.

Twenty days, he translated. He would be gone by then.

“Boys have two-two’s and girls have wee-wee’s,” she informed him, as if she were imparting some secret. “Do you have a two-two?”

“Um, breakfast is ready,” he said, filling a plate with a little pile of golden eggs, a strip of bacon, and a piece of buttered toast, sliced diagonally. He had no idea if this was a sufficient amount for a kid.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “Aren’t you going to eat, too?”

“Yes, but first I have to go outside to do something. Stay put, short stuff.”

She giggled at his name for her.

I really should wake Louise and leave, but I don’t have to work until this afternoon, and, okay, I admit I’d like to continue the fun of last night. Yeah, a kid might hamper my efforts, but I’ll take my chances.

Louise will probably kill me for sticking around.