Weekend Ritual

There is a Daddy in this house.  He has two little girls.  He loves them.  They pretty much think he is it.  Saturday morning I came out in the living room and there they were, snuggled in the blanket.  Him in the middle, a chipmunk on each side.  Still in pajamas, all three.  Pink hedgehogs and purple red-riding hoods and blue plaid.  Observing the time-honored Saturday morning tradition......cartoons.  Did you remember?  I sort of forgot.  That's why there's a Daddy in this house.  'Cause there they were rosy and giggling and warm.  And completely unaware of to-do lists or chores.  Just enjoying Daddy and Pablo, and Tasha, and Tyrone.  And now I remember.  That sooo happy feeling of an empty day completely full with the simple promise of Dad.  And cartoons.  And cold cereal.  And pajamas till....never.  They do it every weekend.  I sleep in.  Next weekend, I'm gonna sleep in again.  But this weekend, when I stumbled in, it was like standing outside a window in the snow, watching a family start in under a fully loaded Christmas tree.  And having every confidence they would welcome you.  It made me feel cozy.  Like he always does.  So glad there's a Daddy in this house.