So, there comes a point in every parents life where magic happens. Actually, if you are fortunate you have that magic happen again and again.
On Sunday — Father’s Day — I got up after the wife and daughter had already started making breakfast. I usually cook on Sunday morning, so this was already a special treat. My daughter, all of 13 months old, was toddling around the kitchen while Mommy was making pancakes.
I sat down at my desk to read the news and saw my wife hand an envelope to the little one. Now, normally she would either (a) chew on it or (b) toss it down if it didn’t interest her. Instead, she — with some verbal encouragement from my wife — held it out in front of her and walked over to me. Then she gave it to me. My little girl hand delivered my Father’s Day card. I was nearly in tears. It was magic.
That, my friends, makes up for all the technocrap, fast food poison, big company hijinks that we put up with everyday.
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