“Dad, please don’t come to visit us anymore! Every time you leave, Mum starts crying and doesn’t stop until morning. I ask her, ‘Mum, are you crying because of Dad?’ but she always says it’s just a sniffle. But I’m old enough to know that sniffles don’t sound like tears. Dad sat with me at a café, stirring his cold coffee while my ice cream—an absolute masterpiece—remained untouched. Any six-year-old girl would be excited, but not me. I had decided, even last Friday, it was time for a serious talk with Dad. He was silent for ages before saying, ‘So what should we do, sweetheart? Not see each other at all? How will I manage?’ I wrinkled my nose—just like Mum’s—and said, ‘No, Dad. I can’t be without you either. Here’s what we’ll do: call Mum and tell her you’ll pick me up from nursery every Friday. We’ll cafe if you want, and you can tell me all about your and Mum’s week. If you ever want to see Mum, I’ll take her picture every week and show you. Deal?’ Dad smiled and nodded. We agreed. I felt relieved and finally had my ice cream, but I wasn’t done yet. With chocolate moustaches, I turned serious and said, ‘I think you need to get married… You’re not that old!’ He chuckled at my generous fib. ‘Not that old, not that old!’ I insisted, ‘Mum’s friend, Uncle Steve, who’s been round twice, is actually quite bald right here.’ I touched my head and suddenly realised I’d let out Mum’s secret. Dad’s reaction was intense—‘Who’s this Steve? Mum’s boss?’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe. He brings sweets. And cake. And flowers for Mum.’ Dad stared at his hands, deciding something important. I waited, realising men need a gentle nudge from a woman—especially one they love. Finally, Dad sighed, raised his head, and spoke with tragedy and love, though I didn’t know about Romeo or Othello, I understood people suffer and find joy over tiny things. ‘Let’s go home. I want to talk to Mum.’ I knew this was important. I quickly finished my ice cream, wiped my lips, sniffled, and looked seriously at Dad: ‘I’m ready. Let’s go.’ We didn’t walk—we half ran. Dad took my hand, and I fluttered behind like a bright little flag. When we reached our building, the lift was just leaving. Dad scooped me up and raced up the stairs. At last, when Mum opened the door after Dad’s anxious ringing, he got right to the point: ‘You can’t do this! Who is Steve? I love you. We have Oly…’ Still holding me, Dad hugged Mum. I wrapped my arms around both their necks and closed my eyes because the grownups were kissing… Sometimes, in life, it only takes a loving little girl to bring two stubborn adults back together—because she loved them both, and they loved her, and each other, but let their pride get in the way… Share your thoughts in the comments below and give us a like if you enjoyed this story!

You know, I need to share something thats been weighing on my mind. So, last Saturday, I was out with my dad. We were sitting at this little café in Winchester, and I said to him, Dad, maybe its best you dont visit us so much anymore. Every time you leave, Mum gets all teary and just cries all night.

Its trueIll fall asleep, wake up, and shell still be going. I asked her quietly one morning, Mum, why are you crying? Is it because of Dad?

She just shrugged and told me she wasnt crying, just sniffling because shes got a cold. But, honestly, Im not a little one anymore and I know colds dont come with tears that sound like sobs.

Dad was sat across from me, fiddling with his spoon, swirling his now-cold coffeesuch a tiny cup, as if made for a dolls house. Meanwhile, my ice cream was still untouched. Can you imaginehuge, colourful scoops, topped with a mint leaf and a cherry, the whole thing drizzled in chocolate? It looked like a work of art.

Any other six year old would have demolished the whole sundae immediately. But not me, not Isla, because Id decided there was something important I needed to talk about with Dada grown-up conversation Id spent all week preparing for.

We both sat there in silence for ages, and eventually Dad whispered, So what do we do, love? Do we just stop seeing each other? How on earth am I supposed to cope with that?

I wrinkled my noseMum always says I got her potato noseand after a second, I told him, No, Dad. I need you too. Lets do it like thisyou ring Mum and tell her that every Friday, youll pick me up from school.

We can go for a walk, and if you fancy coffee or ice cream, we can pop into the café. Ill tell you everything about what Mum and I have been up to.

I thought some more and added, And if you ever miss Mum and want to see her face, Ill film her on my phone every week and show you the photos. How does that sound?

Dad smiled, a real soft smile, and nodded, I think thats a good plan, poppet.

That made me breathe out, long and relieved. I finally picked up my spoon and started on my ice cream. But I still had something important to say, so as I licked my ice-creamy moustache, I got serious againalmost grown up. Its funny how, even at my age, you worry about your dad, especially since hes just had his birthday last week. I actually made him a card at schoolcoloured in a huge 28 across the front. Put a lot of effort into it.

I screwed up my face and said, You know, maybe you should get married again

And because I love him, I threw in a kind little lie, Youre not even that old.

Dad chuckled at that, Not that old, eh?

Not that old at all! Look at Uncle Harry, the one whos come round to see Mum twice already. Hes completely bald here I pointed at the top of my head and smoothed down my curls to show where.

Dads face suddenly changed as soon as he figured out the secret Id let slip. I quickly clapped both hands over my mouth and my eyes went wide as saucers.

Uncle Harry? Hang on, you mean your mums boss? Dad practically shouted, right across the café.

I started stammering. Im not sure, Dad. Maybe. He brings me chocolates and cake for everyone.

And, I hesitated, not sure if I should go on, brings flowers for Mum sometimes.

Dad stared at his hands for a really long time. I could see wheels turning in his head. I know now, at that moment, he was making some big decision in his life.

I just sat there quietly, knowing I’d need to gently nudge him in the right directionbecause men, you know, sometimes take ages to work things out. And who better to do the nudging than the girl who loves him most?

Dad finally took a deep breath, looked up and saidyou know, he sounded like some tragic Shakespeare fellow at that moment, if I was old enough to know about Othello and Desdemona, but Im not yet. I just sit and watch grown ups learn, celebrate, and sometimes struggle with the small stuff.

Dad said, “Come on, love. It’s late now. I’ll walk you home, and I’m going to have a word with your mum.”

I didnt ask him what he was planning to say, but I knew it mattered, so I gulped down the last of my ice cream quickly.

But suddenly, I realised that what Dad wanted to do was way more important than even the tastiest ice cream. I threw my spoon on the table, hopped off my chair, wiped chocolate off my mouth with the back of my hand, sniffled, looked my dad straight in the eye and said, Im ready. Lets go.

You shouldve seen us, legging it back homewe almost ran the whole way. Dad was in such a hurry, holding my hand so tight I was practically flying like a little flag.

When we burst into the entrance hallway, the lift doors were just closing, someone else heading upstairs. Dad glanced at me and I burst out, Well? What are we waiting for? It’s only the seventh floor!

He picked me up and charged up the stairs. We finally arrived at our flat, and after Dad rang the doorbell loads of times (his signature impatient ring), Mum opened the door. And Dad, straight away, blurts out, You cant just do this! Whos this Harry? I love you. And weve got Isla

And then, with me still in his arms, Dad wrapped Mum in a bear hug too. I reached both arms around both their necks and just squeezed my eyes closedgrown ups kissing, you know how it goes.

Funny, isnt it? How a little girl managed to pull those two stubborn adults together, an odd triangle of love, pride, and old gripes All she wanted was for them to realise how much they all mean to each other.

Honestly, tell me, what do you make of it all? Give me a thumbs up if you feel the same.