Tilda ruffled his hair and pinched his cheeks affectionately.
âIt seems youâre so observant.
â
Unperturbed, Sheldon continued, âMom, if you donât answer, that means youâre admitting it.
Youâre happy, right?â
Her heart warmed at his insistence.
Tilda pinched his nose playfully.
âIf you werenât so curious, youâd be even cuter.
â
Sheldon beamed, his logic unassailable.
âElma says kids need flaws to be manageable.
I canât be any cuter.
â
Tilda shook her head, amused and a bit overwhelmed.
This little boy, her son, was growing too clever by the day.
And she loved him all the more for it.
She now couldnât outtalk her little genius.
At this moment, Lyndon came down from upstairs.
Sheldon left Tildaâs side and ran over to him.
âDad!â
Lyndon picked him up and touched his forehead with his own.
Sheldonâs fever seemed to have subsided.
Since Sheldon couldnât get an answer out of Tilda, he turned his attention to Lyndon.
A N G E L A âs L I B R A R Y
âDad, did you do what I suggested to make Mom happy?â
Lyndon arched an eyebrow at Sheldon, his gaze instinctively flicking towards Tilda.
Observing her standing there awkwardly, he swept his gaze over her red lips and hummed.
Sheldon frowned.
âYou only played kissy-face with Mom? What about the flowers?â
Tildaâs eyes went comically wide.
Playing kissy-face? Was kissing for fun?
She couldnât listen to another word of this!
As a matter of fact, Tilda didnât want to deal with the father and son duo anymore.
So she turned, ignoring her flaming cheeks and speed -walked towards the kitchen.
As she walked away, she could hear Lyndon speaking to Sheldon.