The first time your child expresses gratitude…that is, expresses gratitude without following the usual script (i.e. in response to your prompted, “What do you SAY?”)…that’s a day you never forget. For DD, it was when she was three days shy of three.
I had sent the hubs to the store to exchange a pair of wrong-sized shoes I’d gotten for our little pistol to wear for her upcoming birthday party. Sparkly little mary janes. Cutes patoots.
He returned home with said-kicks, but had made a last-minuted decision…all on his own…in the children’s shoe department…to pick up a little something extra for his girl.
When he walked in the door and showed me his purchase, I immediately knew she would swoon, but suggested we wrap them and give them to her for her birthday. After all, it was merely days away and they would make a nice gift.
He didn’t want to wait.
Our little pistol came barreling around the corner when she heard Daddy’s voice and Oh. My. Goodness. Did HER face light up! Her eyes danced with excitement, her already-mousy voice went up another octave when she saw the Hello Kitty box in his hands. A box adorned with that little feline held so much possibility. It could only be something amazing.
She tore the box of wonder from his hands and sat on the kitchen floor, ready to explore it’s contents. Her little hands lifted the lid and if she didn’t let out a shriek, I don’t know what. She lifted her new pink treasures, inspected them briefly and immediately slipped her feet into them, as if she were Cinderella trying on a glass slipper. Only, on the wrong feet. (A mere technicality when it comes to Hello Kitty galoshes).
And that’s when it happened. Our child, three days shy of three years-old, melted her father’s heart.
“I LOVE it!! Thank you, Daddy. I LOVE it! Thank you, Daddy. THANK you!” And she wrapped her little arms around Daddy’s legs in a hug so big, so heartfelt, it could melt Queen Elsa’s ice castle.
It brought a tear to Daddy’s eye. And mine.
It was the first time our daughter, our little pistol…normally so full of “P and V”…was so purely filled with gratitude and joy and she expressed it, unprompted, unscripted. If I’d had my phone on-hand, I would’ve snapped a picture or recorded some video of her (obvious) moment of weakness. Instead, though, I paused and really paid witness to this special moment. I lived it.
The hubs had been racking his brain for weeks, trying to come up with a special Daddy-daughter gift he could give her for her birthday, and in the end, it was just something he stumbled upon in the store. Just some little, pink Hello Kitty boots. That’s it. But, boy, if they didn’t make her day. Her year! (And his.)
She hasn’t taken them off, since.