Maurine bit her lip, as her daughter stood before her hugging her dad ferociously. She couldn't help but soften her heart a little, as she acknowledged the look of adoration in Anne's sparkly grey, innocent eyes. She was daddy's girl alright, and nothing that Maurine could say or do would ever change that, no matter how much she wanted to. Sighing with resignation she sharply turned her back on the happy scene and began to unpack the groceries.
"Hey young lady, you need to let go a little here," laughed Paul, stumbling on the spot. "I'm having trouble breathing, you are squeezing me that hard!". Paul drew back and stood staring at his amused daughter. Maurine absentmindedly crushed the packet of Digestives she was about to place in the cupboard, as she envisaged gently squeezing the last living breath out of the man who stood behind her. She heard Anne's childish giggle and felt her fingers tighten involuntarily, creating a crumbly biscuit base out of the once substantial tea time treat. She shuddered, as she felt the heavy weight of his calloused hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you put the kettle on, and we can all sit down like a proper family?", he announced.