My Dayla.
I left early this morning to take brother to the doctor; you on the computer playing games and Daddy in bed slipping in and out of awake. I asked you to be good to Daddy, as I always request when I leave. You seemed indifferent to the request as you do most times, but when I came home I found this on his bedside table:
A drawing. A note. A cup of coffee.
It was so simple, yet something about it speaks volumes to me. You were good to Daddy. You brought him a note and a drawing and a cup of coffee to wake up to….all things that you thoughtfully put together and knew would put a smile on his face as he opened his eyes for the first time today.
Sometimes you are such a pill….and then there are times when you do things like this. I love watching you grow up. I love watching you interpret the world around you in the ways you do. I love your thoughtfulness. I love your drawings. I love your love of our coffee breath (yes, you do stick your nose in our mouths after we drink coffee).
My sweet Dayla, I love YOU.
That made me tear! Good job Dayla!