Daddy's girl

I just had to get this down in writing before a.) I change my mind again, and b.) I forget and it never gets said again, and it needs to be said, at least once, in fact only once otherwise we're in danger of creating a monster.

So, here goes... Molly you have the best Daddy in the world and right now I can totally agree with you when you squeak with delight when he walks in the front door at 6.00 every night. I would squeal, but you know I can't be half as cute as you and fear I might just detract from the 'glad to be home' feeling he gets when you do it!

No particular reason, he hasn't done anything out the ordinary. He's so wonderful with you. Hard days and long nights don't diminish his desire to make you giggle, throw you around and generally make an idiot of himself just for your amusement.

And after all these years (16 to be exact... oh my god that is an awful long time isn't it?!) he still manages to know when I need an impromptu coffee and cuddle in the middle of the day, or for dinner to be waiting for me after I've spent an hour getting you to go to sleep, or just to sit and listen to me while I whinge without once stating the bleeding obvious until I do, that kind of thing. You've got to love him, well you know, I do.

It just makes me realise how good we have it, and although of course it won't stop me whining about anything in particular (it's my prerogative), I know that as long as I have you both I won't go far wrong. And I wanted to put it here, so that when you read this and you're all grown up and you hate us - or Dad anyway - you'll maybe think again and decide that we do deserve a phone call, Christmas card, visit or something?