I have commented here before about the shear tender hearted sweetness of my daughter. Mere mortals should tremble in fear of their hearts being unable to stand the strain of melting from the awesome power of our fully operational M&M. It's a good thing that I've had two years to work up to this level of daddyhood. Otherwise, I would be a pool of sobbing, slobbering emotionally connected masculinity clutching feebly at my chest trying to figure out why I have no pulse right now.
Truly, I almost feel sorry for the poor schmuck who takes her on her first date. Almost. I might even hire an ambulance crew to follow them around with me and the coroner. Maybe.
Case in point, M&M woke up this morning at around 6:30 just as I was stepping into the shower. Nothing like a blast of cold air on a wet behind from a two year old yanking the shower curtain aside to say "Hi daddy!" to get your attention. She continued to shadow me as I went about my morning routine including following me into the closet where I get dressed. She was amusing herself sitting on the floor and/or crawling around at my feet and otherwise trying to trip me (a trick she has learned from the cat no doubt).
Every once in a while, she would look up at me and say, "Daddy go to work."
I would respond, "Yes, daddy has to go to work."
When I was finishing my dressing routine by buckling my belt, M&M stood up from her spot on the floor, reached up to me with arms outstretched and said, "Hug."
I reached down, picked her up and once again enjoyed the slender little arms embracing my neck and left shoulder. As she tucked her head into the crook of my neck and shoulder, she said "Want you stay home."
I wish I could sweetheart. I wish I could.