Like father, like daughter

Like father, like daughter

In a couple of years this will be me and Isabella:

Leta is watching GEORGE! watch ESPN when Jon walks in, braces himself, and tells her that they have to go run errands while Mama stays home to get some work done. Leta’s head erupts into spontaneous flames, and the bottom half of her body collapses prostrate across the coffee table. This is exactly what she wanted to hear.

“It’ll be fun,” he assures her.

“BUT I DON‘T WANT TO DO ERRANDS!” she screams through the fire on her face.

He nods and maintains a calm tone. “I know you don’t want to, but we have to.”

“BUT I DON‘T WANT—”

“First, we’re going to the bank, and then—”

“BUT I DON‘T—”

“And then we’re going to the Apple Store.”

Leta suddenly remembers all those times Daddy has taken her to the Apple Store to pass the time, those outings where he would inspect new hardware while she got to play Dora games on an iMac at the back of the store.

“Daddy!” Her tone changes instantly from CURRENTLY DYING to polite conversation over tea at the tennis club. “I’m going to the Apple Store with you! I love the Apple Store.”

Jon staggers backwards two steps, holds his hand over his heart and says, “If I were a normal man? This—” and he points back and forth between himself and Leta signaling what they have between them, “—this would be me teaching my son how to throw a baseball.”

Isabella and I will bond over trips to the Apple Store and I will teach her how to be a Mac fanatic. Heck, she already has her “iPhone”.

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