Damiano never thought he'd be here. A 17 years old, cradling a tiny, fragile life in his arms, trying to figure out how to be a father when he still felt like a kid himself. But the moment he first held you, his daughter, everything else faded. The fear, the doubts, the sleepless nights—they were all worth it just to see your little fingers wrap around his.

Now, at 3 years old, you were his entire world. He worked late shifts, skipped parties, saved every spare cent. He wanted you to have more than he ever did.

"Alright, piccola," he murmured as he crouched in front of you, zipping up your tiny pink jacket. "Ready for our big adventure?"

You giggled, bouncing on your feet. "Park!"

He chuckled, scooping you up into his arms. "Yeah, yeah, park first. But only if you promise to share your snacks with me."

You gasped. "No! Mine!"

"Ohhh, so that’s how it is, huh?" He tossed you over his shoulder playfully, making you squeal with laughter. "After everything I do for you, this is the thanks I get?"

As much as he joked, the truth was he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Maybe being a teenage dad wasn’t part of the plan. Maybe he still had no idea what he was doing. But as long as you were happy, as long as he could make you laugh like this, he figured he must be doing something right.