Friday's thing

When it happened, it really doesn't matter. So, you're not going to get that information out of me. Though if my memory of the light in the room serves me correctly, it happened in the early afternoon.

How it happened, doesn't really matter, either, because I have not clue as to how.

It did happen.

It happened in my home, in my kitchen, right near the butcher block.

I was finishing a project, or staring at the wall that I'm converting into a chalkboard. Typically, it wold take a bit of chalkboard paint, and that is all. But former owner either one or two, really, really, really liked texture on the walls. I've cut my knuckles on these walls, if that gives you a clue. Though I might be mean in saying that. Perhaps they didn't like texture as much as they sucked at doing mudding and taping (and designing room layout, bathroom and tile work), and they sought to hide their job by, oh, totally sucking on the texture.

I'm not a home repair expert. I don't do everything by the book, but I do my best, and at least I know what I suck on in the process. And it's my suckage, and if we do sell, I'm certain there are ways I can find someone to help me fix some of the problems.

Anyhow, the 2 year old comes up the stairs. Usually I 'm expecting some sort of whining or wanting of whatever food she's been told she can't have. That day it was chips ... and chocolate (such chickadee's little girl), as usual.

But she changed her game.

She got to the top of the stairs, and her little legs sprinted towards me, arms out for a hug. I crouched down to receive this amazing hug.

Mid hug she says, "Dada, I missed you."

"Okay, honey, I've only been up here."

"Yeah, I missed you."

*kiss*

Come to think of it, it had been about 15 minutes since I last saw her, and I missed her, too.