Heather

Returning from work I look out to see my daughter, Heather, practising her cheerleader routine. I'm struck by how old she looks and feel a moment of sadness as I think that once senior year is out of the way she'll be off to college and out of the house. I open the backdoor and head into the yard. She pauses her routine and smiles a greeting, "How was work?" "So-so," I reply. "How was school?" "Great," she replies enthusiastically, "You wouldn't believe who Molly Watson hooked up with." "I probably wouldn't," I agreed. I sipped my coffee as she told me the gossip, a mixture of her friends I'd known for years and random guys and girls who I'd no clue off, but who Heather knew. I waited until she'd finished talking and added a few words on my own day before saying, "Don't let me interrupt your practice" "Thanks, I need to be in shape for the big game on Saturday, you are coming to watch aren't you?"