"Bye-bye, Daddy!" days are coming

I caught a glimpse of my future yesterday. Or at least it felt like I did. Britt had to wear his suit for an oral argument presentation at the law school. He had to leave pretty early in the morning (as least to our way of thinking), so Ava and I were still sleepy-eyed and just eating breakfast when he came in to model his new suit for me (I hadn't seen him wear it yet). Impressed with his double windsor, I gave him the thumbs up, and off he went to put on his shoes and be on his way. By the time he was ready to walk out the door, we were finished with breakfast. So Ava and I accompanied him to the door to see him off. Ava loves going to the opened front door, if only to attempt to set foot on the front step. Somehow that gives her quite a thrill. Imagine if it were only (let's say...) the eighth time you'd placed your socked foot on cold pavement. I guess it would be thrilling! Anyway, Britt was leaving for the day, all decked out in his fine suit, new shoes gleaming (which Ava the shoe hound was the first to point out), and Ava and I were standing in our pajamas at the front door to see him off. After Britt and I completed our daily exchange about who has the cell phone, what time to expect him home, etc., Ava, without coaxing, waved her hand excitedly and said, "Bye-bye, Daddy!" just as plain as day. In that moment, I felt like this might become a familiar scenario in the post-law school years -- Britt heads off to the firm in the morning dressed all fancy right down to his shoes, ready to tackle another case, while I stand at the door with our children around my knees, all of us sock-footed, in our pajamas, still puffy-faced, waving "bye-bye" to Daddy and wondering what the day might hold for us today. It was sort of a sweet moment. One of the kind you don't expect. The kind that is so ordinary that you think it's silly to feel struck by it, yet undeniably sweet in its ordinary-ness. That's the stuff life is really made of.