My daughter is constantly reaching into the night sky and asking if I can help her reach the stars.
It was cute at first, but the metaphorical weight of the statement, combined with my inability to lift her that high, has turned her request into a stab at my inadequacy.
Yesterday she extended this request into the daytime hours while we were playing at the park.
Clara: Can you help me climb the flagpole, Daddy?
Me: It’s pretty high, sweetie.
Clara: Please!
Me: I’ll lift you as high as I can.
Clara (while still clinging to the flagpole): Daddy, can you help me climb to the sky?
Me: I’ll do my best… this is as high as I can lift you, sweetie.
Clara: Daddy, I need a ladder!
Replaced by a ladder.
