by Maureen Sevilla
Above the huge shiny black clodhoppers all she could see was the field of green fatigues he wore. Her little bare feet fit perfectly on the tops of the boots and he held her hands with her arms outstretched wide as they danced around the living room to one song after another --
She was never too tired after a full day of play to dance with her Daddy. He smelled of aircraft oil and Old Spice, a combination she'll never forget and he was never too tired either to dance with his daughter after a day of tending F-4's.
I Blame Harlequin for this ...
4 weeks ago