Bad Daddy, Part 2

It’s been six days since It happened. And  yes, I should have blogged it sooner. (Hence the title.)

I mentioned in my last post how verbal our girls are getting. But nothing prepared me for this:

Friday, Ali flicked a mental switch. And all I could hear was “DADA DADA! DADA DADA!”

And yes, she was directing it at me. With increasing volume and joy at seeing me.

Cue heart melting into puddle.

And last night, just because she wanted to make sure she was mentioned in this blog post, Norah said — quite clearly, to both Shannon and me — “Sit down” whilst standing on her little pink chair. She then sat down, taking her own advice.

It feels like I should do this every day. I’m at work, but this took like four minutes to do. Am I too selfish and wrapped up in stupid things to capture moments like these? Answer: Kinda, yeah.

I promise to try to be better about it. Excuses abound, but that’s not fair. Some day in the year 2031, my daughters might be hanging out reading Dad’s old blogs (“How quaint!” they may chuckle at our primitive technology) and wishing that I had been more online-attentive.

I’m a writer, for Pete Rose’s sake. Paid for my skill with words. I should be better at this kind of thing.

Sorry, girls. Daddy’s only human. (Clearly, one of the greatest living humans, but still.)

Please don’t put me on a floating chunk of ice  when I get old.

Our angels