Are YOU my Daddy?
When my older daughter (now fourteen) Sweet One was Betty Boop's age, she committed her first case of mistaken identity.The husband had taken a new job and had to travel to Atlanta, Georgia for three weeks, the longest he had ever been gone from her or us.
On the day he was to return we cleaned the house, baked a cake, and made "Welcome Home" signs. Instead of a big dinner, I simply ordered a pizza to be delivered.
My Sweet One was so very excited to see Daddy again and ran around the house telling me every few minutes: "My Daddy come home today!"
As the afternoon wore on to early evening, I saw the pizza guy drive up. He was probably nineteen, at most, and was wearing khaki shorts with his officially issued pizza shirt. As I was paying him, but before I could retrieve the pizza from its pouch, Sweet had come running through the kitchen door and latched herself onto one of those somewhat hairy knobby knees as she cried: "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!!"
It took a minute or so to pry her loose. She had to only look up to identify her mistake.
When her father finally arrived home, she was far less enthusiastic in her greeting, at least, until she was certain who he was.
