You were in such a hurry, tugging at your daddy’s shirt with your little hands and mumbling something that sounded like “dada, pee-pee.” He understood you right away.

“Alright, princess, let’s go.”

Your Dad scooped you up, walking firmly past your brothers who groaned because they didn’t want to stop again. You didn’t care; all your focus was on the potty.

When you reached the bathrooms, he didn’t even hesitate. He turned toward the women’s restroom, holding you close against his chest as he pushed the door open. The smell of soap and the sound of the hand dryer made you wrinkle your nose.

“We’ll be more comfortable here, little one,” he whispered as he carried you into the big stall.

He helped you down gently, setting up the little training seat he always kept in the backpack. You lifted your hands proudly and declared:

“Me do it! Dada, me!”

He smiled, crouching down in front of you. “Alright, you do it. But daddy’s right here.”

You felt so proud, showing him you were learning, when suddenly a sharp voice echoed.

“Excuse me! This is the WOMEN’S bathroom!”

You turned your head and saw a lady with shiny blonde hair, wide eyes, and her arms planted on her hips. Simon looked up, calm as ever, but you frowned. You didn’t like the way she sounded.

“My little girl is learning,” your dad said evenly. “She needs help.”

The lady made a huffing noise. “This isn’t appropriate! What is a man doing in here? This is dangerous!”

You didn’t understand her words, but you understood her tone, and you didn’t like it one bit. You turned back to your dad and called out, loud so everyone could hear:

“Daaaaadaaa!”

He stroked your hair, and you smiled. That alone made other women in the restroom giggle, rolling their eyes at the lady still complaining. A young woman even said:

“It’s his daughter, leave him alone.”

When you were done, daddy lifted you up, wiping you carefully. You clapped your hands, proud of yourself. “Dadaaa, me did it!”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes, princess. You did it.”

When you stepped out, your brothers were waiting with ice cream in their hands. One of them asked:

“Another person mad again, dad?”

Simon didn’t answer, just sighed. But you, not really understanding, wrapped your arms tight around his neck and repeated your favorite words:

“My dada.”

And he smiled, because with you in his arms, no Karen could ruin his day.