"Slowly sweetheart,"
"We need to catch them, daddy,"
"Watch your step," dad runs after me as I chase after the little bunnies in our lawn. Mom was resting on the rocking chair on the patio with one hand over her largely swelled stomach, contently smiling and cheering us on.
"Run slowly Mr. bunny," panting hard and sweating bucket loads of water I sat down on the grass to catch my breath and so did daddy.
"No, don't sit we have to catch them," pushing him with all the strength a 7-year-old could muster I tried my level best but he won't budge.
"Fine I'll catch them, ma'am," I giggled sweetly, I always liked when dad called me that. But instead of going after the bunnies dad picked me up and threw me in the air.
I laughed loudly obviously after shrieking out loud. Making me sit on his shoulders we made our way back to mom. Holding me still on his shoulders dad bent down to kiss mom and then her stomach.
