H and K, your box art is strong.
Very good stuff.
See, at some point an empty cardboard box ends up in the house.
Sometimes it is from something we ordered. Often it is just a box we got to throw give-away items in.
Before mom and I know what is going on, markers and pens and sometimes crayons are strewn about and you two are in the floor creating something new.
You are artists in the making, I believe.
Maybe we all are, if given the time?
I love you.
-Dad
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
H, you often come home and tell mom and I a story about science class.
It is, after all, one of your favorite classes.
For example, right now we get nearly daily updates on the chicken, duck, and quail eggs y’all are incubating. (6 days to go!)
When you give us your updates you will often refer to a “science experience” you did that day.
We know what you are saying.
You are talking about a “science experiment.”
But it’s too cute and too precious, and you are going to hear it right in a moment from some friend anyway – and an ounce more of my little baby girl is going to turn into a big kid.
So we don’t correct you.
We hug you and squeeze you and kiss you – and ask you if you want to tell us your story again.
I love you.
-Dad