A perfect dad, a moment

On Tuesday night I left my little girl with her dad and as I walked through Clifton I sent him this message:

“Sometimes it’s hard to imagine there could be a better dad.”

A part of me didn’t want to send it. It was a little thought that said you don’t know what he’s going to do in the future, you don’t know if he’s going to let her (or you) down.

I ignored all that, it lasted seconds and I’d forgotten it until a twitter friend mentioned embarrassment and dying from it. My response felt brusque, and it was something like good , it’s the death of the ego.

And then I remembered that moment and it occurred to me that my resistance at sending that message was embarrassment at being made a fool.

So I say good. For a moment in time my little girl was happy and adored and taken care of and loved and felt a part of something. For one second it was hard to believe there could be a better dad.

There are moments like that everywhere and sometimes it’s her godfather playing buzzy buzzy bee or her auntie choosing clothes especially for her in Brussels or Mersina hurting her finger and looking to her grandad for support.

All just for a moment.

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