My Story Pt V

I have a small daughter, to whom I read regularly. She loves books, and so do I.

We were reading The Gruffalo's Child, and the closing scene has a picture of the Gruffalo, the Gruffalo's Child, and a mouse.

My daughter looked at the picture, pointed at the mouse and said, "Where's his daddy?"

"Well, I don't know, the book doesn't say, we don't find out."

"Where's YOUR daddy?"

"Er...well, I don't know love."

"Oh well, we'll have to ask mum then."

It was like a dagger through my heart.

I'm not sure I can even say why really. Fatherhood did not seem to me to be complicated by having had no father of my own. I had a reasonable idea of what dads did, after all. And it didn't seem to throw up any issues of my own background.

Until now.

It became evident I needed to do something about it. But what?