daddy's girl?

i remember, when i was a little girl, my dad..

. would always do 100 brush strokes to my long black hair every night, before i sleep. he said i shouldn't miss a night so that my hair will stay untangled and shiny. [until rebonding was invented. hehe.]
. would wake me up with a hug so tight forgetting that he just did when he bade me sweet dreams, the night before, after combing my hair.
. would read stories to me, as a reward, when i finish my homework early.
. would give me all the coins in his pocket, everytime he has. eventhough he knows that i'll just spend it all on candies [and miss dinner because of it.]
. would pick me up, everytime i trip up, and cradle me on his lap until i stop crying.

and i remember, when i was not so little..

. he'd wake me up so early on saturdays and force me to help with the chores at home.
. he'd implement dictatorship and not allow me to watch tv on weekdays.
. he'd not let me go out wearing shorts.
. he'd spank me with his belt, until i cry for mercy, each time i did something wrong intentionally. [provoking my brother for me then was fun and spontaneous. hehe. evil me.]
. he'd not leave the dining table until i finish all the food on my plate. especially the green, leafy ones. [i don't consider them food then.]

my dear dad. i miss him. especially now that he's out on a business trip. and now that i'm a little bigger, [and i think i won't get any bigger] i get more tough coaching from him than when i was just growing. but i believe i'm still her little girl. always needing his consoling, cradling arms. and i bet, he knows that.