Typical nights at my house consisted of baseball on the television and me begging my parents to let me stay up a little bit later than normal. My sister had already been put to bed, our toys strewn across the living room floor, dirty plates in the sink from dinner.

I hummed to myself and laid my head on my dad's shoulder, occasionally asking him about where the grass went in december, why i couldn't sing in the school choir until i was eight and why he left so early in the morning.

“Why does mommy have to work so much all the time? I want to spend more time with her.” I looked up at him, speaking over the tv.

My dad sighed. “Time for bed McKenna.”

I nodded and stood up. “Can you play me the songs?” I questioned, knowing that I wasn't going to be getting my answer tonight.

“For sure.” He turned the tv off, standing up and walking over to the radio and putting my CD into the player.

I had named it a year ago when i was sitting in my mom's office, watching her burn it off of the computer. “What do you want your CD to be called, McKenna?” She put emphasis on the word “your” knowing how much i liked the idea of having my own things at such a young age.

“McKenna’s Moon” I replied, putting my hands in my lap.

“McKenna’s Moon it is.” She answered, smiling and grabbing a marker to write it down.

I reached my arms up for my dad and he lifted me off the ground, positioning me on his hip. He turned the lights off. Moonlight shone in through the open window, blowing soft gusts of august air, like feathery kisses on our skin.

My dad turned the stereo on and I laid my head on his shoulder, my bangs falling into my eyes.

The first song that played out of the speakers was “Return To Pooh Corner” by Kenny Loggins. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force my small five year old body to sleep because I knew that was what my dad wanted me to do. He slowly rocked me back and forth. back and forth.

I could hear my mom working upstairs and the faint crying of my sister in her crib but none of that was important to me. It was moments like this, just me and my dad, where I felt like the only thing that mattered was us. My dad hummed lightly and I tried even harder to get myself to go to sleep.

The song ended and another started after. “Celebrate Me Home.” More Kenny Loggins. My dad obviously had a distinct music taste.

“Go to sleep.” my dad whispered and I nodded, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders.

“How did he know I was still awake? He knows everything.” I thought.

I focused my ears on the music then on the wind then to the music and the wind mixing together. Lyrics surrounded me and tried to sing me to sleep.

Once my two songs ended my dad turned the radio off and carried me to my bed. He laid me down and pulled the covers over my small body.

“Goodnight bub.” he said with a smile. “Sweet dreams.”
As he walked out of my room I turned over in my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin, trying to take in, for maybe the millionth time, how much those small moments meant to me. just me and my dad dancing around our living room, every night, us in our own little world.