Was She Held? Day!
At 10:20 am, as her eyes opened and saw that it was sunny outside, and as she tried to decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, and as she tried to shuffle off the dream she had been bundled up in, and as she tried to buy the fact that "this is what it's like to be awake or I mean alive, this staring at some curtains and buying that yeah it's sunny today and now let's try to feel something," was she held then?
There were some arms within reaching distance. In a logical world they would've been wrapped all up around her because she was even naked even. But not just that, more importantly, she was there and she was coming to and starting a new day. Who wouldn't want to lay claim on that moment, wrap the little girl up like "The moment when she comes back to all of us for one more day, that moment is all mine, wrapped up tight close to my chest. Just try and take it away from me I swear to God I'll kill you dead." Did that go down? Was she held then?
For certain, no doubt, she was locked in a coil of arm and elbow and big safe Dad-type muscle. How else could this morning have worked out. Gonna try to tell me she was right there, and he was right beside her all night long thinking about something besides how awful it is that suns sometimes rise and make you get out of bed? Gonna try to make me buy that, that someone was too busy crossing off a to-do list in his head, adding up how many years he's got left to make himself a man, wondering how someone else in someone else's bed is gonna wake up tomorrow morning? Wondering if she'll be held then?
No fucking way. She was held then, right?
Happy Was She Held? Day!