❤ Not Cute Enough ❤

❤ Day 3 ❤

Annabelle.

Annabelle the wild child.

Annabelle the wild child who I owe myself to.

The girl who finds wondrous joy in the most mundane.

If I give her a hoodie I think she'll like, her face lights up like a wealthy man's Christmas tree.

She has an unique ability that way.

She turns things into gold.

At the bookstore, she dances through the young adult section, she raditates more youthful energy than any of the written stories she runs the tips of her fingers over.

She's eager to find a new story.

From her pause in dancing, I take it she's found her treasure, not resting upon the shelves, but in the hands of a woman.

It's the last copy, I know she won't leave without it, she pulls it straight out of the poor woman's paws.

Unlike Annie, she's doomed to act her age, and doesn't put up a fight to get it back, she only glares at my girl.

"Annabelle!" I shout, using her full name that I love but she hates, it doesn't fail to make flinch in fear, showing the woman that she is under control,

Even if she sometimes flies off the rails.

The woman walks away, I crouch down to Annie and make her look at me by holding her chin, her sad eyes melt my heart to the point that it's a struggle to do this.

My voice with an enraged tone plays out, "Annie, you know what happens to girls who steal."

A terrible deed, she's almost cute enough to make it look acceptable.

"You know what will happen to you if you do it again?"

She nods in sadness, regret, and fear at the implication, I'm sure.

She now holds the book out for me to view, another for her continuously growing collection of essential fables.

Another piece of gold in her hands.

"If you're good for me for the rest of the day, it's all yours." I tell her, meaning I'll buy it for her now.

I brief her on our next course of action.

I tell her we must get food.

She crosses her fingers, she doesn't believe it grants luck, she believes it make me notice how cute her hands are when they flash goofy gestures.

I give into her charms, that means she gets whatever she wants.

Back in the car, she lists off whatever her little heart so desires.

Finger Lickin' Good™ food.

Something Different™ for variety.

Eat Fresh™ subbies.

There's even more.

Pizza Pizza™ The slogan, but she also requests two pizzas.

I agree to all of this and I must get her milkshakes as well, sugar kisses from me to her.

We've hit three places, into the fourth, she begins to squirm and half-stomp her legs as we arrive at the register, she must have private matters to perform.

Her movements become frantic, if I suggest she go, she'll say she can't go alone, like always.

I have to follow her, stay with her, not let her out of my sight, take her hand whenever she reaches for it, shield her from whatever horrors await.