Emma wore her braids with a pink dress shirt and a daisy patterned skirt. My daughter was only eight then and called me, "Daddy" with caring passion.
After a year or two, she embraced her ‘preteen status' with a new found love for indie bands and bubble gum. Emma addressed me as "Daddy" to her litte friends.
Then she wore make up and liked boys, much to my utter horror. But guess what? She greeted me with a kiss to the cheek and a giddy, "Hi, Daddy!"
Now she's married. You can imagine what my little girl still says.