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“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.

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