"Let's set a camp here," Desmond announced. "Near the lake would be suitable. What do you think, Sander?"
That was what Desmond thought when we finished our morning meal and we were taking a stroll around the vacation house. We happened to halt in front of the lake which Sander didn't hesitate to wade in the water.
"Hmm!" Sander said. "Or a picnic. We haven't done it back in the pack, Papa."
Desmond nodded. "We can do that. I shall tell George to make preparations."
"No," I chimed in. Desmond looked at me, creasing his forehead. "You know that I do not want anyone who shall make the preparations," I said unhappily.
At first, Desmond was perplexed at my words. It took him a few moments before he realized what I meant. He smiled. "Ah, yes. Indeed. I have forgotten. My apologies, seraphim. I shall not do that then."
I almost frowned when he called me in that endearment again. I just ignored it and glanced at Sander who was looking at us.