Daybreak

Yesterday Che, our 4 year old daughter, woke before light, climbed down from her raised bed in the dimly lit room, and almost made it down the stairs before calling out in the darkness, "DA! DADDY!"

Jerking awake, I'm on the stairs hugging her before my eyes fully open.

"That's another step in her not needing us anymore," I tell Sarah. "Before long she'll take care of herself."

My wife rolls her eyes and walks away.

Today Che makes it the way down the stairs and creeps to my side of the bed.

I'm dead asleep.

Sarah felt Che enter the room, pause and stare for us through the darkness.

"Come to bed," Sarah calls and our daughter scampers across her mother's belly, collapses between us and wakes me up.

For a moment, it is pure bliss.

"Do you want to get up?" Sarah asks.

Che rolls across my belly, grabs my hand, saying, "C'mon Da," and the day's begun.