a good daddy

 

“By the time she is three months old, I will be her favorite,” he said.  By the time, she was 1 minute old, he probably already bought her three ponies.  He couldn’t stop gazing at her, he was mesmerized. 

At night, when she’s next to us in our bed, refusing sleep, happily kicking and grabbing at anything in her reach, she watches him.  And when he’s not watching her, she squeals, a spunky, dramatic sort of squeal.  She does this until he looks.  She smiles.

It’s my favorite.

When a girl has a good daddy, it’s special, powerful, and important.  It’s a gift. I know, because I have a good one too.    He’s far away and we don’t talk that often, but he’s the one who said I could be anything I wanted.  He taught me that I was valuable and to stay away from loser boys.  He taught us to take chances and to dream.  I remember that.

Her daddy will teach her those things too.