Phil Gardner 2005
My daughter brought him home for the first time last night, all smiles and giggles; all laughter; holding hands up the path.

I didn’t laugh. I took him into the kitchen, gave him the speech, the rules; told him if he broke her heart he’d have me to answer to.

He said he loves her. Said he’ll take care of her.

I don’t trust him. He’ll let her down - they always do.

Now she wants to see more of him. I don’t like it. Or him.

But what can I do? She’s eight years old. And he’s her father.

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3rd January 2005

My Daughter and I
by Phil Gardner