MyThreeDaughters

Yeah, that’s right, I’ve kind of stayed away from the sappy here, unless it’s been sap-tastic. So forgive me:
But when you come home from a bad day at work, because apparently it’s more profitable to comment on the news than it is  report or  find it and report it, nothing can save the day like a well-timed “Daddyyyyyy!”
The two bigs rushed toward me when I came in the door and layed out hugs, then the third waddled over with her arms reaching high.
Beat that, corporate America.
A little while later, just after I sat on a chair in the living room, the 15-month-old again stormed over, hands held high as though to surrender, and offered a big hug. She had on an orange and white skirt, with flowers and orange trim, and her head is almost bald, like with a 40-year-old guy’s amount of orange hair. She went for a gooey crumb that had fallen on the carpet, and I asked why she had such a nose for bad things.
She looked at me, then started jabbering.
Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.
Jabber, jabber, jabber. It was like I was being cursed out in a foreign language.
Really, I said that wrong, I’m sorry.
I started jotting notes. She chirped like a squirrel, when there’s a cat under his tree.
Doo-rollll!
Ahhhh!
Eeeee!
Then she looked right at me, like she knew what I was writing down.