21

21 years ago yesterday morning I watched a little head pop out of her mamma's tummy. A C-section isn't very pretty, but that little head sure was. Minutes later I was holding her in the crook of my neck, my cheek brushing her little head. Somewhere I have a picture. As she got bigger, I would come home from work, pick her up, throw her over my left shoulder, swing her around the back of my neck and back over my right shoulder where I'd grab her upside down and flip her over and set her down onto her feet. It sounds complicated but it was just this natural, smooth maneuver accompanied by a lot of giggling. I can't even imagine how many times this happened over the years. She also spent quite a bit of time during her first few years riding around on my shoulders, which she always liked. When she was around four and five years old, I had a big tall street legal dirt bike for a couple of years. We'd go on dates on the bike, riding up into the foothills above San Bernardino, California followed by a stop at the frozen yogurt place. Then, without fail, she'd fall asleep sprawled out over the gas tank on the way home. And that just reminded me that after about one block of travel in a car, she would usually be asleep. Just like that very first time we got acquainted, she often liked to “go cheeky cheeky,” always a delight. That got less popular when she got older, but once in a while it still happens. The swinging over the shoulder thing hasn't happened for many years and I don't expect it ever will again. We'd end up in a pile on the floor. But it's not at all unusual to still hear that giggle. And how I love that sound. The government says that today she is an adult with all the rights and privileges that entails. It's quite a milestone and I'm so proud of the wonderful, talented, delightful, and beautiful young woman she has become. But as every daddy knows, of course, she'll always be my little girl. And in my heart I'll always be swinging her around while she giggles.