"my daddy picture"

Sometimes (and by that, I mean frequently) my sweet little Butterfly will find a picture of her daddy. Usually a printed snapshot from my scrapbooking desk but sometimes even a photo ID from a conference. She will hug this picture to her chest and carry it around for hours. She smothers it with kisses and insists on showing it to everyone. By the end of the day, its wrinkled, perhaps smeared and well loved. But then he comes home and she can stash the picture away, for some future day when she will happen upon it and with much delight, begin it all again.

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