When I went to the park with Natalie, I was standing around. I was doing little more than just standing around, killing time, doodling with my phone, waiting to go back in.
Natalie came up to me with a stick between her teeth.
"Grrr," she said.
I checked my voice mail.
"Woof, woof," she said.
"Uh-huh," I said, scrolling through messages.
"Woof woof," she said again.
I looked at her. She stretched her neck out and thrust the stick forward with her jaw.
"You want me to throw it for you?"
"Woof, woof," she nodded.
So I threw it, and Natalie chased after it, then brought it back.
"Woof, woof," she said, and thrust the stick at me again.
So I threw it again, and for the rest of the afternoon, there I was, at a dog park, scrolling through my emails, playing fetch with my autistic daughter.
Father of the year.