Over dinner, Dad lifted his head and then spoke.

“When I got back home, Tongtong was so happy she was showing me how she can play the drums(we bought her a set of drums for babies!).”

Dad had such pride on his face, such sparkle in his eyes, and a smile that nearly reduced me to tears.

I freeze-framed the moment, and told myself I will write it down, for one day, when she grows up, she will know what she had done as a baby that captured the hearts of the adults around her, especially that of my dad’s.

How he laughed happily, amidst all his stress and frustration, when she pulled him to his feet when he got home, refused to let him sit nor lie down, so she could “dance” with him.

She would pull his huge hands with her tiny ones, and step 2 steps forward, step two steps backward, and gurgle as if counting “1, 2, 1, 2″ as the beats.

How she would imitate his snores.

Gee, she would even wave her hands in the air imitating how gonggong wash the mahjong tiles.

And the look on my dad’s face, whenever he recounts each and every progress of Minibean, is one, I will always remember. One of pure joy, and one that moves me.

One day, I will tell her, how much she means to everyone of us, and the differences she made.

For I, can’t quite remember when was the last time, I saw my Dad this way, before Minibean burrowed into our lives.