ranchandsyrup

And we’ll collect the moments one by one. I guess that’s how the future’s done.

Bailey3 (2)

When Mari and I first found out we were having a girl I spoke with several friends that had daughters for advice and input.  I remember quite a few of them remarked on how great it was when they came home from work and their daughters squealed “DADDYYYYYYYY!”  They were right.  I love coming through the door, and after surviving the initial greeting of the dogs(who go from barking at the intruder to dancing and wagging their tails) hear our girls.  Our youngest is usually in a walker or bouncer and she gets a huge smile, screams and bounces at an increased pace. Our oldest does the “DADDY!!” squeal and (usually) jumps up for a big hug.  It’s an awesome way to feel validated for going out and doing what a father does for the benefit of his family.  But it’s not the highlight of my day.

The best part of my day happens shortly after I come home from work.  Our oldest either informs me that we should go upstairs so I can get in comfortable clothes or I remind her that I’m going up to change.  We used to walk upstairs holding hands so I could help her up the stairs. Now she is older, faster and chooses to hold my hand (and my heart) about 1 in 5 times, but that one time is because she wants to.  We head to the master bathroom and I sit on a low chair.

“Daddy, I’ll untie your shoes,” she begins.  Then she’ll pull on the heel of the dress shoes.  If she remembered to loosen the laces, they’ll come off.  “Daddy, these go in your pile.”  Compared to my wife’s neatly arranged shoe section, my side definitely looks like a pile.

“Daddy, pull your socks down.”  I then pull the socks down over my heel.  She does NOT like it if I take them off myself.  “These go in the hamper.”

“Take off your watch Daddy.”  She can’t manage to get the clasp undone yet.  “This goes in your dish.”  She climbs up on the chair and puts my watch in a little dish next to the sink.

“OK Daddy, give me your belt.  This goes in your belt drawer.”  She has to get up on her tippy-toes to put it in the drawer.

“Take out your collars and give me your shirt.”  I have fewer collar stays than I should so I take them out to use (a paper clip works well in an emergency, as an aside).  “Your shirt goes into your shirt pile.”

“Daddy, now you can hang up your pants, OK?”  She usually hands me a hanger and then goes and sits on the chair while I change.  I ask her about her day and if she was a good big sister.  Sometimes she’ll ask for some music and start dancing.  Sometimes she asks me where I was and if work was OK.  It’s nice quiet time for us.  I know the routine will fade away.  But I love that little slice of time with her so much.  I’m looking forward to a different routine with our youngest as well.  Or maybe the same one.

Geez, daddy-blogging sure is sappy.  🙂

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