When my daughter was born, I always figured she was the cutest little girl ever. Except for perhaps her mother at that age.
This morning, I had my assumptions confirmed.
As I got ready for work my big 16 month old helper picked up both of my socks and my hat, and handed them to me one by one as I put them on. I think I just about melted.
Yes, that is my daughter’s finger, and that would be me wrapped all the way around it.
But that’s just temporary. It’ll only last a lifetime.