I want to hold your hand

We went over and had dinner with Gina's Yiayia last night, just to make sure she had some baby lovin' to lift her up after the passing of her brother. As the only great-grand kids they have a kind of magic with her, just having them in the same room seems to give her a boost of life and happiness. This of course put us off our schedule, though, and we were running a little behind bedtime as we made our way home. With both girls still working through a cold, Arianna was not thrilled about life. She was getting upset like she wanted something, but nothing in the car would satisfy. Finally I just turned around in the passenger seat and rubbed her leg for a second. As I pulled my hand away she snatched it up and pulled my hand back in to her lap. She then laid her head back and narrowed her eyes, staring out the window in quiet. I held her hand for a bit but, as you can imagine, it wasn't comfortable. So, with her now quiet, I went to pull my hand back and turn around. Suddenly she squeezed tighter and pulled it harder in to her. It was quiet obvious that I wasn't going anywhere, but I was happy all twisted around holding her hand the whole way home. I know that in the pecking order Momma is leaps and bounds above me, but it's nice to know that when nothing else in life is comforting, Daddy's hand will work as well. Of course, that means she also knows that she can (quiet literally) twist Daddy around how ever she pleases, wrapping him around her tiny little fingers. Don't ever tell her this, but I wouldn't want it any other way. She may have thought that she was the one who wanted to hold my hand, but the truth is I'm always looking to do just that.