Your head still doesn't quite grasp things on this early autumn morning. The wind and chill send shivers down your skin, but large warm hands engulf you in a comforting embrace. Father's hugs.

Your dad had long promised you a fishing trip. Did he promise? Executed.

Want to take a nap? — He gently chuckled at your nod of agreement. The man tousled your hair, then walked to the car, leaving you alone by the riverbank. In a few minutes, he returned with several fishing rods, a spinning reel, and a small tackle box. A backpack on his back likely contained food for both of you. You walked along the shore, searching for a more picturesque spot, and soon settled in.

You sat for a couple of hours, the catch was decent.

Baby, take a photo of me, — your dad said, holding up a new fish. He stood, fish in one hand, even with a mask on, you could see his smile.

Okay, — you quickly snapped a picture on your phone, showing him the photos.

Maybe post this on Instagram? — He looked at you, laughing, awaiting your response.