Thursday is my favourite day of the week.

September 26th, 2013, 8pm

It was 12°C with clouds and visibility OK. The wind was light.

I get to spend an hour in the morning with my daughter while her mother catches up with her girlfriends down the road.

We go to the same cafe and order the same thing - long black and a cheese scone. As soon as we get out of the car she know’s where we’re headed, waves goodbye to her mum, turns her back, and starts bouncing in my arms.

It’s strange what a child will do to you. My daughter has rounded off some of my harder edges, but in a way sharpened me. Most of the time I’m exhausted, but when I’m with her she seems to draw out a vigour, vitality and stupidity I never knew I had. She eats up my time, yet I find with less I am able to do more.

I know how special these moments are, or maybe I don’t. If I did I would present 100%. But often I’m not. My mind, too, is juvenile and immature. It flits from one thing to the next. My daughter, she lives in the moment: yelling in the cafe because she can; laughing at passersby as I hold her up to the window; pushing buttons on an old sit down arcade game, because she can.

She is the best of me.

Trae, Paul and Cassie said thanks.

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Aidan Rasmussen

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