Well, I got there, she came over to my car and told me she didn’t feel comfortable.
Her bio dad was distracted, on his phone most of the time. No real conversation. No connection.
She said, “I just wanted to be with someone who actually sees me.”
We didn’t say much on the ride home. But when we pulled into the driveway, she looked at me and asked:
“Can I still call you Daddy?”
I turned to her and said,
“You’ve never had to ask.”
She may not be my daughter by blood,
but she is my daughter by love, by time, by every bedtime story, school run, and scraped knee.
And that’s the kind of fatherhood I’ll always choose.
