Daddy’s Girl
“Go ask your mother.” I can’t tell you how many times I heard that over the years. Most women would admit that their dads preferred a hands-off approach to raising them. I know mine certainly did. He had pretty strong opinions on what I SHOULDN’T do, and with little ‘can-dos’, he left my mom in charge of implementation.
As the first born, I remember being dad’s sidekick from a very young age. I have great memories tagging along to soccer games and outings with dad and his soccer buddies. Things were fun and light. Never was anything ‘important’ discussed. He left that to mom. I love that now we can openly discuss the things we never tackled when I was a kid. We’ve both evolved. I’m sure our closeness is directly linked to the fact that all the ‘tough’ father/daughter stuff is behind us.
The relationship between dads and sons is far less complicated. Less emotions and more testosterone. Have a son admit to a first kiss and he’s likely to get a high-five. Have a daughter admit to the same and she’s just made the biggest mistake of her teen years.
Try as they may, dads are just a little goofy around us gals. Can you blame them? What with the hormonal land mines, different body parts, and the early onset of strategic intellect (sorry boys – we really do figure things out earlier), dads just don’t stand a chance.
So sweet are the fathers, who try so hard to be one of the girls. Playing dress up, drinking tea, painting nails. Trying to cross over to the other side provides amazing memories and bonds that last a lifetime. Those dads should be applauded for leaving their macho behind in favour of embarrassing and photo-worthy moments.
Lucky are the dads, who have sporty daughters. You can almost see the relief in their eyes as life hands them a free ticket to relatable experiences.
I watch my hubby try to navigate the nuances of a 9-year-old daughter. One day she’s catching bugs, the next she’s picking out pink polish and looking at him like he should’ve just known. “Umm … I’m a girl ….?”
Having a child is a blessing. Period. But with one of each (a boy and a girl) in our house, we get the amusement of watching each gender evolve. I have the joy of watching my husband boy-it-up with our teen (I’m suddenly seeing/hearing things I never wanted to about both of them), and managing the delicateness of having a child of the opposite sex. It really is fun playing witness to his confusion as he tries to figure her out.
The real delight is in the knowledge that he has yet to encounter hormones, dating, boyfriends, sex and marriage. The ultimate kick in the shins for a dad … when his daughter trades him in for another man. I’ll be able to sell tickets to that father-daughter dance. He’s going to be a mess.
This weekend, as guys celebrate their dads with a case of beer and an uncomfortable hug, I’d like to send a special ‘thank you’ on behalf of all the girls. If your kid ever called herself a ‘daddy’s girl’ (like me), good for you. I certainly love my kind, smart, handsome dad (father to two girls and one middle child), and I know my girl is over the moon about hers. I’m just stocking up on wine so I can properly enjoy my husband’s response during the teen years just around the corner. I vaguely remember a lot of whiskey in my house as a kid. It’s all starting to make sense now.