It's a pretty sad commentary to admit that the best sound system in the house is on my computer. Since my computer lives in the kitchen, and like most families, we spend 90% of our time there, we've always got music on.

Last night, my husband was surfing the 'net, and listening to some of his favorite big hair bands from the 80s. My three-year-old curled up in his lap and smiled around her thumb as she watched my husband relive some of his concert memories.

I rolled my eyes from across the kitchen. He extended his thumb overhead as a Dio ballad played. My baby chirped "right on!"

Next, iTunes spit out some Cyndi Lauper. Watching the man I love rock out with my youngest daughter to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was hilarious. Waggling fingers, shaking rumps, and an episode of wild spinning ended with the song as the two of them collapsed into a chair, giggling.

I bopped along in my little corner of the kitchen, not wanting to cut in on this father-daughter routine. They beamed at each other, while they danced through a few more songs. The last song was a slow one, and my girl had one thumb in her mouth, with the fingers from that hand grabbing my husband's nose. Her other hand was busy grabbing his ear, and she made contented snuffling noises.

I stood outside their embrace, but at that moment, I knew that everything was right in my world.