Simon and his wife were quickly learning that raising a daughter was an entirely different ballgame. After three sons, they had assumed it would be easier—how wrong they had been.

Now, Simon had you sitting on the bathroom counter, your small frame leaned back against his chest as the two of you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your wild curls were an absolute mess from your morning adventures, and he was determined to tame them. Easier said than done.

It had already taken half an hour to get you dressed after you stubbornly rejected every single outfit he had picked out. Now, it was time for your hair—the real battle.

Still, he smiled down at you, gently running his fingers through your tangled locks.

“Alright, sweetheart. You want piggies, bunnies, or just one?” He asked, trying to make it sound as exciting as possible.

You hugged your knees to your chest, your tiny face lighting up. “Piggies!” You practically shouted.

He grinned. “Piggies for my baby girl, got it. And what about some bows? Can Daddy put bows in your hair?”

Your little face immediately scrunched up in disapproval. “No.”

Simon sighed dramatically. “Please, baby? Just a couple? They’d look so pretty.”

“No.” You repeated, shaking your head with finality.

He groaned playfully, flopping his head against your shoulder. “You’re so stubborn, miss picky.”

You giggled, and despite the fact that you had completely won this round, Simon couldn’t help but smile. You might have been the most strong-willed little thing he had ever met, but damn if he didn’t love every second of being your dad.