Daddy's Girl

I had always dreamed of having a little blond, curly headed girl. She and I were going to play together, laugh together, and we would always be best friends. We would hang out together all the time, and at any waking moment, I would want to spend it with her. I would have a shopping buddy, and we would be so happy together.

Then I had my baby girl.

She didn’t have blond curly hair, and the only person she wanted to be around was Daddy. I spent all day with her, every day. She would cry, fuss, throw up on me, and all of that “mom” stuff. But no. She didn’t want me. She wanted her Daddy.

She wanted Daddy first thing in the morning, she wanted Daddy all throughout the day, she wanted Daddy in the evenings, and she wanted Daddy during the night. I was chopped liver. She couldn’t have cared any less about my existence.

There was excitement in her voice and love on her face at the mere mention of his name. She was totally different when he got home. She was calm, loving, quiet, and sweet. You would have thought it was Christmas morning when she heard the door open. To see Daddy, or hear his voice was sheer excitement and pure joy.

She had him wrapped around her finger, too. She still does. And his heart melts for his beautiful girl.