Penelope shrugs. “What’s the Brady Bunch?”

He shakes his head. “Seriously?”

“Alice,” I offer. “So, you want to be my housekeeper? That’s your back-up plan?”

“I could totally pull off that dress and apron she wore.”

“I’m being serious.”

He gets up from the table, clearing his plate. “The way I see it, you’re probably going to marry someone who also works a lot like you do. You’re going to have a fabulous double income lifestyle in the suburbs, but not much time. If I’m around to keep the home fires burning and making sure Fletch Jr. gets to his Tae-Kwon-Do class, everyone wins.”

“Do you actually like cooking?” Pen asks, her distaste for it clearly showing on her face.

“Yeah, I do. Cleaning sucks, but it’s all right. And I know how to mow lawns and stuff.”

“You are not seriously planning on being my housekeeper.” I grab my plate, but Penelope shoos me away from hers as she reaches for more bacon.

“This bacon is so good.” She chews for a minute. “Uncle Joey.”

“What?”

“That show with the Olsen twins. He wants to be like Uncle Joey. That show I did see.”

Shane nods. “Yeah. Uncle Joey. Except no dumb voices.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re going to graduate college, and you will become a productive adult. Nearly failing one lit test doesn’t mean you have to be my housekeeper.”

“Caring for children and a home is being a productive adult,” Penelope argues. “It’s not stuff I could do. We’ve all seen my attempts in the kitchen.”

I throw my arms wide. “I can’t believe you are taking his side.”

Shane pats my back like I’m over-reacting. “There are no sides, Fletch. I’m just making sure I have a back-up strategy.”

Penelope gets up and puts her dishes in the dishwasher. “Shane, I can be your back-up back-up plan. I have no interest in keeping house, and I don’t know how to mow a lawn. Not sure I’ll have kids, though.”

Shane smiles big like he knows a secret. “Oh, you’ll have kids. Both of you will. And I’ll be Uncle Joey to them all.”

He leaves the room and Penelope and I finish cleaning the kitchen.

“I think we should talk about BDSM.”

I drop the pan in the sink. “What now?”

“Sorry. I should have led up to that a little smoother.” She pushes her glasses up. “I did some research on the spanking we did last night.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. This girl confounds me in the best ways. “When did you have time to research?” I pick up the pan and finish cleaning it. “When you say research...are you saying you researched spankings? Is that what we’re talking about?”

Did I do it wrong?