"I love it—thank you."
I started to rip open the present from my dad next and felt myself getting nervous as I did so. Last year my dad had gotten me one of the most hideous shirts I had ever seen—I never wanted to have to go to such great lengths to lie about liking something ever again.
"You think I screwed up again, don't you?" Dad asked, catching my attention. I scoffed at his words as my cheeks began to crimson.
"What? When have you ever screwed up when getting me something?" I asked him, unable to admit to him that he had ever gotten me something I didn't like. My dad sent me a face that screamed 'Don't bullshit me.'
"Trust me—I know I'm not the best when it comes to these type of things, kiddo. But I think this year will be different," he told me which piqued my interest. I continued to open the present and once the item was in my hands, I couldn't believe my dad had ever been so terrible at giving gifts.
In the box was a ring—albeit a seemingly standard gift that would be hard to mess up, the ring I was holding was the one my dad had given my mother on her birthday the first year they were dating. My parents had told me the story of the ring a thousand times—while it hadn't been articulated all those years ago, they both had secretly hoped that it would symbolize a promise. When my dad eventually proposed, he tried so hard to find a ring that looked nearly identical while still giving my mom something new—but she had always said that nothing could have topped the ring that my dad had given her that very first year together.
"It was one of the first things you asked if you could have after your mom passed away... I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come to my senses about giving it to you." Instead of verbally responding to my dad's words, I simply reached forward and wrapped my arms around his neck the best I could while the tray was set up over my legs. "Happy birthday, My."
"Thank you," I responded quietly as a couple of tears fell down my cheeks. I pulled away from the hug and tried the ring on; it fit me perfectly. Seeing it on my finger only caused me to cry a little harder, but every tear was one of happiness. "No wonder they're always singing songs about turning seventeen... this one is starting out pretty good," I admitted, wanting both of my favorite people that were in the room to know that I was trying my best to keep up a good attitude this time around. I glanced at Sam and saw that she had tears in her eyes, yet a pleased smile on her face.
Suddenly, my dad broke out into song, choosing a classic as he sang: "You are the dancing queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen!" Sam and I were all giggles in response to his outburst, simply shaking our heads at him in amusement.
"That was really good, Mr. J," Sam cheered him on which caused him to let out a hearty chuckle.
"You guys don't appreciate me like you should," he joked. "I'll leave you girls to it while you eat your breakfast," Dad said as he pushed himself off my bed. "I'll come back up before I head out."
"Sounds good," I told him with a smile. He leaned down and placed a kiss on my head before leaving the room. Sam laid down beside me once he was gone and I laughed at her action. "How long have you been up?"
"About an hour," she told me as she turned her head to the side, looking up at me as she continued to lay on her back. "I think he asked for my opinion on that ring at least twelve times. He was so nervous." My eyes glanced down at my hand and I found myself smiling all over again, as if I had just laid eyes on it for the first time.
"He couldn't have done something more perfect," I announced even though I knew Sam was well aware. "Thanks for keeping him company this morning, and helping out with whatever he had you doing. He couldn't be more appreciative of his second kid, you know."
"i think i love you"
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