Ryan
“Come on, girl. You liked me yesterday.” I hike Lexa up and set her on my shoulder so her legs are around the back of my neck, my arm bent and extended so I press my hand against her back. She immediately fists my hair and stops wailing, her sad sniffling turning to quiet excitement. A small giggle leaves her lips as we pass one of the ceiling height windows in the hallway I’ve been walking her up and down for the past thirty minutes.
Aviva would tell me this is dangerous to do with her at only four months old, but I can’t help it. Tossing this baby around is getting her ready to wrestle, which is what I often tell my wife before she stops my fun, but right now, we’re completely alone.
I turn a corner, find another hallway, and walk down it with no plan nor destination in sight.
