Stop it, trees!

It was so nice on St. Patrick's Day after work, that I passed on the evening of drinking green beer and eating corned beef and cabbage to spend it with my daughter. Granted, my wife's sudden work meeting and the fact that it is illegal for my two-year-old daughter to go without adult supervision may have factored in the decision process ever-so-slightly.

Anyway, we decided to have a picnic and walk around a park. So we did. It was one of those daddy-daughter bonding moments that I pray sticks with me forever. I really do. Just me and her, holding hands while jumping in puddles and going down slides . . . it was fun, and the absolute perfect way for me to begin the spring.

But as the late-afternoon turned to evening, and the wind turned from a pleasant breeze to a gusty blast, it got kind of chilly for us in our spring jackets and green T-shirts, so we headed back to the car. As we did, my daughter suddenly stopped, and looked directly at a small patch of trees directly in front of us.

"Stop it, trees!" she yelled quite annoyingly at them.

"Aurelia, what are the trees doing to you?" I asked.

"They are blowing on me!" she told me.

My two-year-old daughter had taken it upon herself to decide that the gusts of wind that stung her were coming from trees blowing on her, like she were a birthday candle. I wanted to explain to her what was wrong with this logic, but I didn't. I just smiled at the innonence of it all, hoping again that this be another memory I keep with me forever.

Especially when she starts dating, and I need to embarrass her.

Wooooooooooooooooolhouse