Get well soon, Daddy

She’s never watched an episode of CasualtyΒ and her briefΒ Doc McStuffins phase is well behind her but Kara would make a great nurse.

So there I was one evening last week snoozing on the sofa when I sensed someone leaning over me. I opened my eyes to find Kara looking down at me, concerned.

“Daddy, are you poorly?” she asked.

“I have a bit of a headache,” I replied.

Her forehead creased. “That’s not good.” She wandered out of the room so I closed my eyes again, thinking nothing of it.

I must have dozed off for a couple of minutes because the next thing I knew she was there again, sliding a cushion under my head and carefully covering me with a pink blanket she had brought down from her bedroom for me.

She left the room again and returned carrying a tray with a glass of water, a bowl of fruit and a card she had drawn up that said, ‘I wish you a good sleep. Love from Kara.’

“Drink this. Eat this. It will make you feel better,” she instructed me in her best bedside manner with a kindly smile on her face, her voice lilting and soothing. “And I want you to sleep downstairs tonight so you don’t make Mummy ill too.”

Yes, nurse.

The next morning she found me in bed rather than downstairs and gently scolded me for not following her instructions. But she was pleased to hear that I was feeling better and gave me a cuddle and a kiss on the cheek for my troubles.

You don’t get service like that on the NHS.

There are times when Kara is as hard as nails, bossy and pig-headed. And there are times like this, when she makes my heart melt.

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