After the haircut we spent the afternoon fingerpainting. Emma’s quite the artiste. She attacks the canvas with gusto! When I was a child, apparently, I didn’t want anything to do with fingerpainting because I would get dirty. Given what a slob I am now, this seems laughable (Marla can offer evidence).
Sometime over the weekend a horrible thing happened: I stopped being “Daddy” and became just “Dad.” I’m not sure exactly when and not sure exactly how, but it seems to be here to stay. I’m a little sad to see those tiny two letters go.