Across me is a father and his daughter. They’re in a table for 2, and they’re both leaning forward with their elbows on the table looking like lovers before they realize there are a million sacrifices that come with staring into each others eyes. He, the father, is wearing his daughter’s backpack – her small purple backpack.
“This is my favorite color,” she says as she points to a pink balloon she just colored.
“I know.” He says, “I know.”