Connecticut Compromise

Christopher grasped the wooden railing that he built with his own hands, stepped up onto the brick porch, and pressed the doorbell. The sound of quick little steps met his ears a moment later, and he could almost see Kristy running down the hallway from the den. She struggled with the doorknob and finally pulled the heavy portal open. Her eyes widened with honest surprise when she saw her father, and she released an ear-piercing scream that Christopher swore would break glass.

"Hi, sweetheart." He opened his arms wide. "Come here."

"Daddy!"

He picked her up and held her tightly against his chest as he stepped inside the house. Jenny entered the hall from the kitchen, a dishtowel over her shoulder.

"Kristy," she admonished in an even tone, "what did I say about opening the door without asking who it is?"

The little girl buried her face in her father's neck and shrugged.

"Come on, Kristy. You know we don't just fling the door open to whoever knocks," her mother replied sternly. "Look to see who it is first and, if you don't know the person, come and get me." She turned back toward the kitchen with a belated, "Hello, Chris."

"You look good, Jenny," he managed, but she just continued on. Christopher lowered Kristy to the foyer floor, then stooped before her. "Close your eyes."

She stood board stiff, clamped her eyes shut, and giggled.

Christopher opened the plastic bag and pulled out a slender pink box. A Barbie doll was visible through the clear plastic front. He dropped it into her outstretched hands.