What the fuck is a diffuser?

I attempted to wrap her hair like she instructed, but the towel just ended up like a big blob on top of her head and then promptly fell off. My little daughter stared at me deadpan due to my lack of hair-wrapping acumen. “Maybe YouTube can help you, Daddy,” she said with a trace of sympathy for her idiot father. I grabbed my phone and watched a YouTube tutorial—who knew?—and got it perfect on the second try. “Good job,” she praised me with a high five.

We got her dressed in her underwear and her sweet little satin pajama shorts and tank top, somehow managing to accomplish this without knocking the towel off her head. “I don’t have a hair dryer. I just let my hair air-dry,” I told her.

She shrugged. “Okay. I’ve done that before, but my curls will be a little wild, so you’ll probably have to fix my hair in a ponytail tomorrow.” She fixed me with an appraising look, obviously doubting my ponytail-fixing skills. Which were nonexistent, by the way.

“Okay, cool. No problem,” I said with false confidence, making a mental note to watch YouTube to figure out how to do a ponytail after she went to sleep. I took a quick shower while Carrie went downstairs and searched for a movie on my big screen TV.

I came downstairs in pajama pants to find her waiting on the couch for me. “We’re watching The Terminator,” she informed me, and we settled down on the couch with her tucked under my arm and started watching. I pulled the towel off her head and ran my fingers through her silky curls, and they finally started to dry. We laughed and said the lines from the movie together, affecting Arnold’s accent with terrible accuracy until I noticed her starting to yawn.

“You want to head up to bed and read a book? We can finish the movie tomorrow.” She nodded and crawled into my lap, wrapping her arms and legs around me as I stood. By the time I had her upstairs, she was asleep. I tucked her into her bed and turned the star light back on as I lay with her for a while and simply watched her sleep.

There’s absolutely nothing more precious than watching your child sleep, I realized. When she was awake, she was constantly moving or talking, but when she was asleep? Dear God… when she was asleep, she radiated a beautiful peace and sweetness. I cuddled with her and felt her tiny, warm breaths against my chest. Her long, dark eyelashes rested gently against her adorable little cheeks, and I couldn’t help but run my finger softly against the pink curve of her tiny face. Damn, I love my baby girl. So much.