In the soft morning light, Luna perched herself on top of a big, empty milk can, her tiny legs dangling and her bright eyes fixed on the doorway. She had been sitting there for a while, clutching the edge of the can with her little fingers, waiting patiently — or maybe not so patiently — for Daddy to come and get her ready.
Her fur still looked a little ruffled from sleep, and she wore an expression that was part stubbornness, part hope. Every sound outside made her ears twitch — maybe this time it was Daddy’s footsteps. She shifted slightly, the cool surface of the can making her squirm, but she didn’t move away. This was her waiting spot, and she was determined not to leave it until Daddy came over.
Sometimes she leaned forward, peeking toward the open space, as if she could will him to appear faster. She wanted him to dress her up for the day — maybe a clean shirt, maybe her favorite little scarf. But more than anything, she wanted that warm feeling of Daddy’s hands gently fixing her clothes, the playful pats, and the silly little noises he always made to make her giggle.
Minutes passed, and Luna sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her palm. Then, at last, the sound she had been waiting for came — steady footsteps approaching. Her face lit up instantly, eyes sparkling as Daddy walked in. Without hesitation, she reached her arms up high, ready to be scooped off the can.
Daddy chuckled, lifting her easily and carrying her to get dressed. Luna wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling proud she had waited. The milk can sat empty behind them, now just a silent witness to her little morning ritual.
