At North Station on Friday I saw a little girl that so resembled the picture I’ve been drawing in my head of my unborn daughter that it was hard not to stare. About six or seven years old, she had the right color hair, the right type of nose, and she was wearing a purple wool cap to boot, purple being Stef’s favorite color. It was the wool cap that really got me. This felt like the coming attractions you see at the movies, as if someone was saying to me, “Take a look, kid. This is what you’re in for.”
And she was dancing! She was dancing about in the open space in front of her mother, her grandmother, and her little sister, reminding me, strangely, of my wife, and what I’ve always imagined she must’ve been like as a little girl.
All of a sudden I had visions of my wife and my daughter ganging up on me, using their combined cuteness as a weapon. And it made me smile. After a long, hard day at work, it just made me smile.