fathers day

If I am wearing a dress, Alice will look at me and say, “Mommy, you’re a princess!”

And I will say, “Oh, Alice, you’re a princess!” And then I will ask, “What is Daddy?”

And she will say, “Daddy is a race car.”

Every time. He is a race car.

All weekend, she was in a clingy, “Mama, hold you” mood. She couldn’t say why, but she felt small and a little sad. And she wanted me.

I know David understands. Just like I know it won’t last.

I am bracing myself.

But I am also looking forward to someday telling her the story of how the first precious minutes of her life were a secret just between the two of them. How even though I still wish, sometimes, I had been in on it, I also love the thought of them together.


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