Sigh. SO. MUCH. WORK.
I've been slacking super-hard on posting. And I am just way too mentally exhausted to write about my personal views and thoughts. So here's my first story post. Yay!!!
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"Ohkay, so what's his name?" Mr. Andrew Shields picked up the stuffed yellow rabbit that was seated to his left.
"Her, Daddy. She's Tabbitha Hopspring."
"Oh." He sat the stuffed animal back down. He squirmed in the miniature chair and let his hands rest on his knees, which stuck out far above the table in comparison to his daughter's, which dangled just above the floor.
"Ohkay, Daddy, now that you know everybody at the table, we can start." She gracefully began to pour the "tea" into each tiny teacup that was arranged around the Barbie Princess table.
Mr. Shields stared at his daughter and smiled to himself. So this is what fatherhood is, he thought. It could take some getting used to, but I think I can handle it.
For the past 18months, Mr. Shields and his ex-wife had been going through a major divorce struggle. They were both battling for the custody over their most prized possession--Ashley, their four-year-old daughter. With him being a lawyer and her being a cake designer, they both had their pros and cons to their parenting styles. The judge said that he was looking for a decision "in Ashley's best interest". And that, apparently, ended up being joint custody. But in Andrew's opinion, joint custody would be like tearing her in two halves. What she needed was one full-time guardian; he even had half a mind to ask the judge to let Ashley choose who she wanted to be with.
But he of all people knew that the judge's verdict was final. And plus- the courtroom is no place for a child. It was bad enough that for the whole duration of the trial, his ex-wife had full-custody of Ashley, only leaving him with visitation rights on every other holiday. The judge had favored her from the beginning, so he considered himself lucky to get even partial custody.
"Daddy, you have to drink with your pinky out, " Ashley said as Andrew was raising the empty cup to his lips.
"Oh. Right." He grinned and stuck out his right pinky. He put the cup to his lips and "drank" the imaginary tea. Well, I guess I've got to be happy with what I got: every other two weeks with her, and every other holiday. He watched with jubilant eyes as she talked to the stuffed bear sitting across from her. As long as I get to see my little angel grow up, that's all that matters.
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That's a short one; these tend to be the ones that I actually do (or am somewhat literally forced to) put an ending to. So please- the floor is open! I am a big fan of constructive criticism, whether it's sugar-coated or shrewdly put. I really do take others' opinion about my writing to heart, because you all will be the ones reading when I'm selling on bookstands! But really, tell me what you think!
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