She nods: where were you?
And I say: at the doctor's.
She looks me up and down for bandages, sees none, and says: what for?
I needed to talk to him.
What about? she asks.
About the cloud in my head.
Frowning: what does THAT mean?
I needed to talk about why I worry all the time.
And she says: you don't need to worry, Daddy.
Why not?
Because I love you, she says, hugging me warmly.
And that's that. Who needs a shrink when you've got a beyond-her-years four-year-old?
