“Do you really love it, Dad?”
“Oh, yes,” he says, beaming like the Cheshire Cat. “What a treat. It’s great. This is really something. Thanks, love.”
I can see the disappointment in his eyes. In his left eye, in fact. She sees it, I think, but she doesn’t want to spoil the day.
“Here,” I say, moving on swiftly. “Little something from me.”
“Little? Is this for my birthday, too, and last Christmas?”
“Sure. Good one, Dad. Go on — give it a whirl.”
I can see the excitement in his eye. She can see it too.
My round, then.