Image from Google.
The following story is based on “My Girl,” which always reminds me of Father of the Bride.
“One, two, three…” she stuck her tongue out, her dark curls nearly bursting out of her pigtails. Her feet stepped around two shoes twice the size of her own, prancing across the carpet. ”One, two, three, one, two , three…Daddy!” A sparkly pink shoe stomped. ”You’re not doing it right!”
“Oh, sorry.” Her father grinned, taking her tiny hand in his. ”Ready?”
One pigtail completely escaped as she tossed her head back, sighing. ”Ready.” Her small fingers entwined with his. ”One, two, three, one, two, three…”
Her father watched the pink tongue flicker across her lips. Completely absorbed in the steps, she didn’t notice as he brushed his lips across the top of her head, more gently than a butterfly’s kiss. She did notice that he missed a step.
Laughing, he twisted her arm, twirling her across the carpet. She shrieked with delight as he scooped her up, spinning her around the room. Her pink satin princess skirts shimmied as her feet kicked with delight, one shoe flying off and smacking against the wall. They both looked at each other in unison, mouths open in perfect “o’s”.
“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispered. Giggling, she buried her head in his neck. Her hot little sigh warmed more than his shirt collar.
“Daddy, you’re the perfect dance partner.”
He could only pray she’d say the same in ten years.
Have a wonderful weekend, Invisible Friends!