The Ultimate Fix for Daddy Issues

A gelato, a ring, and one internal father

— Now tell me, kiddo. Which one do you want?

— Dunno... the yellow one? Or the orange... White?

— All three for my lady then. Hola. Grande, porfa. Limone siciliano, mandarina siciliana, maracuyá, tarrina de papel. Tarjeta, porfa. Gracias. Here you go, little one.

— Is it all for meeeee?

— Every scoop, baby girl.

There was no one else at the counter. Just me, ordering for two.

I went for a walk around the neighbourhood after a pretty big working session. Got myself three scoops of gelato, knowing I’d barely finish one - I just couldn’t pick the flavour. I was staring at the cathedral whose bells I’ve been hearing in my place since the day I moved here, licking limone siciliano off my fingers - the only flavour from the batch I actually enjoyed - when I looked at my all-time favourite ring.

A minimalistic sphere of white gold on an elegant matching band, the one I got for myself as a “you’re doing well, kid” gift, once I started to feel like myself again.

My ring is no diamond, but it suits the kid better. We decided to keep the mockingbird alive. The jeweller did beautiful job.

But the protective older one will break skulls if needed. Because that little one is never going back to that dark place.

World is yours, little one. Let’s play!