Here is some solid evidence that Ava’s daddy was indeed a part of the fairy festivities. He took the afternoon off a work so he could watch his little lady blow our four candles on a flower cake and run around in pink tulle and glitter wings.
He didn’t make it into the little birthday story as the Fairy Good Father and or the Fairy Daddy didn’t have quite have the right ring to it. To be sure, he was quite adamant that he was not be called anything with fairy attached to it.
I can respect that.
As the absolutely-not-a-winged-creature-from-the-forest, he was responsible for all the amazing photographs (and video–he’s a camera man extraordinaire).
He was also responsible for making the fairies fly.
For weeks, I heard many variations of this question: “Mama, when I’m at my party with my big purple wings, will I fly?”
“Only if there is a very mighty wind,” I would reply.
Last Friday, that mighty wind was her daddy.
Hold on tight baby girl, if there was ever a daddy who could help a little girl soar it is this one.