One sunny afternoon, Dad smiled and said to Lala, “Today, I’ll take you somewhere very special.” Lala’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Where are we going, Dad?” she asked eagerly.
“You’ll see,” Dad replied with a wink.
After a short drive through peaceful country roads, they arrived at a small, cozy house surrounded by tall trees and colorful flowers. Lala looked around in wonder. “Wow, this place is so pretty! But… where are we?”
Dad took a deep breath and smiled softly. “This is the house where I grew up, Lala. My old home.”
Lala gasped. “Really, Daddy? You lived here when you were little?” She ran to the porch and peeked through the windows, her eyes wide with excitement.
As they stepped inside, dust motes danced in the sunlight. The wooden floors creaked softly under their feet. Dad gently touched the wall and said, “I used to draw here when I was your age.”
Lala giggled. “Just like I draw on my books now!”
They explored every room together—Dad showing her the old kitchen where Grandma used to cook, the small garden where he played with friends, and even the attic full of forgotten toys and photo albums.
Lala looked at a picture of young Dad and smiled. “You were so cute, Daddy!”
Dad laughed. “Thank you, my little one.”
Outside, they sat together on the old wooden bench. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and nostalgia. Lala rested her head on Dad’s shoulder and whispered, “I love this house. It feels like love lives here.”
Dad smiled warmly and hugged her close. “It does, Lala. And now, we’ve made new memories here—together.”
