The Chase

She is bright, happy.  Her mouth begins a tentative smile, then bursts into a wide grin.  She laughs big and full, from deep within her belly.  She runs away into a different room, her steps more certain than a new walker, but not certain enough to avoid frequent trip-ups.  She squees with delight as she looks over her shoulder, making sure the game continues.  Curls bounce around her face and she sweeps them away with her two-year-old hand.

She stops, cornered by the wall, and spins around.  Waiting for the next move.  He growls and lunges, getting her in the tummy.  She flops her body to the ground as laughter floats through the house.

When he's done, she gets up running, stopping just long enough to look back.  "Get me, Daddy!" she calls to him.  And with a few of his steps she is on the move again, giggling and squealing.

She loves the chase.  She loves the games.  She loves the way her daddy will rough house and wrestle with her.

And me?  Well, of course.  I see the joy and I love it too.


*****
Linking up with Elaine and Heather.