Daddy and I used to dance in the trees. These trees had legs bowed like they were curtsying to the wind. It is through their legs we jumped one after another. Another tree might wave its arms and I would jump and swing from it until it cried out with a snapping sound. The same way daddy did if I jumped on his back if he wasn’t expecting it. I used to do a lot of things with daddy. We would wrestle and play football together. Then it suddenly stopped. The trees would still look longingly at us wondering why we were not leaping through their arms or running around their curved bodies. I was wondering that too. Daddy didn’t want to wrestle anymore, and the spiders had more fun building their cobwebs over the ball than we did playing with it. Daddy now wrestled with the keyboard typing papers. His eyes danced over giant books that didn’t bend or sway with the wind. He tossed himself from work to home like the football used to do. Daddy’s new friend was work.