I don’t mind still being “Daddy’s girl.” I love my Mom, but Dad and I always did things together. He never hesitated to take me with him wherever he went. He showed me how to throw a softball, climb a tree, and dance. (He never played dolls with me though. That’s a relief!) I remember our first dance together. I had to put my feet on top of his shoes and let him swirl me around the room. If I got hurt, Mom would take care of me; but my Dad would tell me how to avoid letting it happen again. “Think before you take a step forward, and you’ll be okay,” he would say to me. There are times in the past when I wish had followed that advice a little more closely.
Daddy’s Girl
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