My eyes open at the sound of a tiny wail. It’s four in the morning.
My partner stirred as I sat up, murmuring “Want me to sort it?”
“No,” my reply was, and I smiled at him. “I’ve got it.”
I get up and check on my eleven month old baby. Her bright eyes are very awake as she looked at her night light interestedly, sitting up and waiting for one of us to respond to her call.
I smiled as I looked down at her, and she beamed up at me, lifting her little arms. I picked her up and have her a kiss and cuddle before setting her down again, yawning as I make my way into the kitchen to make her a bottle of milk.
This is the first time in a while she has woken in the middle of the night. I smile and hum to myself as I prepare the milk, hearing her speak in baby language and my partner’s deep voice as he spoke back lovingly.
When the milk is ready, I bring it to the bedroom.
My partner is holding our infant in his broad arms, and she is smiling happily at him, her little bottom teeth on display.
I yawned, and he immediately said “I’ll feed her. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m ok,” I started to say, and he raised an eyebrow at me. He didn’t even say anything. I sighed and handed him the bottle. “If you need me for anything-”
“I need you to rest baby. Go back to sleep.”
I slipped into my covers, noticing it was getting light outside.
“Dawn,” I mumbled, and he chuckled, the baby drinking her milk, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
“I’m going to check the kitchen,” he told me as I closed my eyes, and I frowned.
“To see what you need. You know, food and drinks; shopping. And milk, food and nappies for little one.”
“I have enough milk and nappies-”
“You can never have enough milk and nappies,” he said amusedly, and I smiled as well. “I’m going to pop into Tescos before I leave for work. Just to make sure you have what you need.”
“Thanks babe,” I sighed, and I opened my eyes to peer at our baby. She was fast asleep in her father’s arms. “Nice.”
My partner grinned at me. “Daddy’s touch is as good as a Mummy’s touch.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed before gently placing our baby back in her cot bed.
I snuggled up to him happily when he got back into bed, and he put his arm around me.
“I’m going to miss you both while I’m at work.”
“We’ll never be too far away,” I replied softly, and he gave me a gentle kiss.
I sighed happily.
He provided for us, never let us down, worked hard, and although he was sometimes working weekends or had other things going on, he made sure he spent a lot of time with his kids.
And me, I thought, and my smile grew as I laid my head on his shoulder.
You hear a lot about fathers who don’t care or do a thing for their children, who walk out on them, don’t have anything to do with them, don’t pay child support and are abusive, the list goes on.
But not all men are the same. There may be a few rotten eggs out there but some eggs are golden. And if you come by a man who is a golden egg, cherish him.
Not all fathers are deadbeats.