I remember the day she was born: 3:06 p.m. on May 18, 2006. I remember the day she came home from the hospital, tiny and helpless, and Morgan kissed her gently. I know her first word was “no,” which doesn’t really trouble me at all. I hope she remembers that word when the inevitible peer pressures come some day.
I do not remember the first time she called me “papa,” but she still does, and I hope she always will.
She’s playing “Hungry, Hungry Hippos” behind me as I write this, talking non-stop to no one in particular. I tell Jeanie regularly, with wonder, with affection, with pride, “That girl never shuts up.”
I adore this little miracle child–so much so that I can scarcely recall what it was that, for all those years, terrified me about being a papa.
