Smirking, she glanced back at him, arching a brow. "I can't imagine you as a nanny. At least not the strict kind. That could be a good thing though, depending on perspective."
She realized she had no idea where to start with building a fire, but didn't ask for help just yet. "I guess the one good thing about my mother was that she was completely and utterly infatuated with my father. If she wasn't, I doubt we'd have followed him all around the world. I don't remember them being very loving toward each other, not in public anyway. But they couldn't possibly be with anyone else. My father demanded absolute perfection, and my mother was about as close as anyone could humanly get." She frowned at herself, actually listening to what she'd said outloud. Her view of her parents explained a lot about her own conceptualizations of relationships, and not in a necessarily positive way. Unfortunately, she just now realized that. She also realized she'd just lapsed back into sharing way too much with him and she cursed herself under her breath for that mistake.