It's tough having your heart broken every day. It's tougher when you are just a year and a half, trying to understand why your father drops you off at a strange place each day. You know you can't do anything about it, you know your parents need to get to work on time, you know it, it happens every day.
So you don't create a fuss, you don't yell and scream, you don't puke all over the vehicle like your father did when he was three times your age and dragged to school. You just gather up all the courage in your tiny little heart and wish your father goodbye. You can't stop the downturned lips and the look in your eyes, though. And you just cannot stop the break in your voice each time you say goodbye.