We had finished dinner last night and Mister was working on his fantasy football team. I fixed Lamb a small ice cream cone--with a hidden pool of strawberry sauce inside--and she asked if we had time to go to the park after she finished the cone. It was getting a little late so I said perhaps not today.
But I quickly reversed myself, and told her we could go. In an age when there are so many reasons for kids to play indoors, why refuse a request to get outdoors?
Lamb has a bag of stuff she likes to take to the park: a carrot trooper (what she calls her bunny paratrooper from Easter), Nerf gun, football, binoculars, telescope, and periscope. And a water bottle. She's ready to hunt bears, it seems.
She likes to swing and have me perform the Underdog maneuver (I pull back Lamb on the swing and then run forward, pushing her up as I then run forward under the swing and out of the way to get the swinging up high quickly).
One thing about the park is that Lamb likes to chat while we are there. I sat on the swing next to her, swinging slowly. And Lamb tells me this and that. Nothing big. Just small talk between dad and daughter. Observations. Questions. Stories of games.
I'm not even sure how this started, but at one point as she's swinging by, she says to me, with a grin on her face:
Well, I guess you're my dad.
Pause as she swings by me.
And I guess you're a good one.
[begin collective "awww" now]
Well isn't that just the best endorsement you can get?
So I said to her:
Well, I guess you're my daughter.
And I know you're a good one.
I'm a lucky dad to have two great kids.
And I almost missed that moment because it was getting a bit late and I didn't really feel like going outside to play. I guess I made the right call.
