He worries if stains are going to come out of her clothes. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't care if the boys were even wearing any clothes.
He worries if the glue is going to come out of her hair. "Please don't say we're going to have to buzz it!!" he says. I grab the shampoo right away and gently assure him.
A twinkle comes into his eyes when he looks at her. I hate to use cliche, but twinkle is the only word that fits.
He tries to hide his disappointment when he gets home from a really long work day and she doesn't reciprocate his affections immediately. Like any great daddy, though, he keeps pursuing her, ever so sweetly, until her heart-melting smile transforms her face into a thousand creases and dimples; until her long, fine eyelashes, like two Chinese fans, are the only things left protruding.
Don't worry, though, the world is still spinning in the same direction: he'll still brag on how many manchildren his loins were able to bring forth. Some things never change.
|And to further boost his machismo factor, here's a blast from the past. Somewhere around '02-'03, cave-crawling with Clay Newcomb.|