H, I wish I could keep and document everything you bring home from school.

I want every drawing, every doodle, every assignment.

I do.

But some of the crafts you bring home, I honestly don’t know what to do with.

Point and case is the scarecrow you made in Friday-care leading up to Thanksgiving.

It’s awesome – and it looks you put in a lot of work on it.

But honest to Jesus, the thing is nearly four feet tall!

I can’t put it in a folder, hang it on the wall, or prop it in the corner it’s so big.

The thing even lay on the floor in the dining room for a few days until we all got tired of slipping on it.

Your work is great. You are great.

But this thing has got to go.

Have no fear.

It rests in the archives, here:

H, you and I had a fabulous date night last night.

K and mom stayed in (with T) and cooked pasta together.

You and I ate at McAllister’s.

We talked about school and you asked me about work and we just enjoyed sitting with each other while we ate.

Afterward, we got ice-cream from the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru and took it to the “yellow park.”

(Yellow Park = The playground at the school just south of our house.)

It was already after dark so we looked at the stars while we ate sitting on picnic tables.

I downloaded a stargazing app on my phone and pointed out Mars and Jupiter to you which you just thought was the coolest thing.

Unless you know what to look for, they simply look like big stars.

We played on the playground for a bit and then walked around the track while we talked.

You stopped and asked me:

Dada will you push me on the swing?

I said that I would. (Of course.)

I got in place to do push, gave you one giant heave, and you easily began moving your legs back and forth swinging on your own.

It occurred to me for the first time right then that you didn’t actually need me to push you on the swing.

You just wanted me to.

I kept pushing even though you were doing all of the work – and it felt like an ounce more of my little girl slipped away from me.

You still call me Dada though, and I love that so much.

I love you.

-Dad