I became Momma Owl shortly after we adopted our then three-year-old daughter.

One day, while we were at the grocery store, we became separated. My wife, fully expecting our daughter to call out “Momma,” asked her to find me. Instead, our daughter began yelling, “Hoo! Hoo!”

In that moment, I just knew—it was her calling to me from two aisles over.

Without thinking, I “Hoo! Hoo!”’d right back. She kept calling, her little voice echoing down the aisles, until we were finally reunited.

When she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me, looked up with the most sincere and gentle eyes, and said:

“You’re my Momma Owl.”

Cue the tears.

My wife teared up right there in the middle of the cereal aisle. I felt a lump rise in my throat and warmth spread through my soul as I whispered back:

“And you’re my Baby Owl.”

I promise, this isn’t a story from a children’s book. It is our real, beautiful, magical moment.

This is the moment that started it all.