Posted on Wed 12/30/09 in Fatherhood
As I am finishing dinner, McKenzie walks around the table to my side. She puts her hand out for me finger and says, “Come with me, Daddy.” She leads me to her room. She tosses the pillow from the rocking chair on the ground and instructs me to “sit.” I sit. She starts meowing and petting the stone kitty on the ground, which had previously belonged to her Great-Grandmother. She points and giggles and utters some cute babble, so I decide to pet the cat, too.
And then, as if she had a great epitome, she asks if I want some tea. Repeating the same hand beckoning as earlier, she guides me to the table next to her crib. She pulls out my chair, tells me to sit, and hands me a tea cup. She pours me a cup, as the plastic teapot gurgles out some tasty, imaginary tea (it actually sounds pretty real). She pours herself some and holds up her cup. “Cheers!” I am grinning, completely in love with my daughter. I’ve long forgotten I’d left my wife to finish eating dinner alone. But these the moments come without warning and are gone in an instant. I would expect my wife to do the same.
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