Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I'm a daddy's girl from way back. I'm 40 years old and still proudly declare myself to be a daddy's girl. Growing up with 5 older brothers, he was my champion. He looked out for me, took me on special outings and, let's face it, bought me stuff my mother wouldn't because he didn't know better. In high school when my boyfriend's mother decided I was a wanton hussy and not good enough for her precious son, my dad quietly explain that she was nuts and I was fine. Come on, I went to all girls catholic school, wore a plaid uniform, had a curfew that made nuns look like Girls Gone Wild and thought I'd get pregnant by sitting too close to a boy. I should have been a mother's dream girlfriend. To this day, when I need to vent, complain, brag or seek advice, I dial up my dad. He's pretty much seen it all (mostly thanks to me). Apparently my puberty was a little stressful on him. Hormones, drama, boyfriends, cat fights, bad hair days, wardrobe traumas, I gave him the whole baptism by fire. My brothers just ate, slept and mumbled through their teen angst. Mine was an all-hands-on-deck experience. I like to think I made him a stronger man. He's just glad it is over and we both got out alive.
Sara has been a grandpa's girl since she was born. She can do no wrong in his eyes. He has never uttered the word "no" to her. And probably never will. He is her biggest supporter.
Despite being a daddy's girl, I was not spoiled. I had the same chores as my brothers. I got punished the same. My parents struck just the right balance of fairness and firmness. I know I don't have my parents' patience, wisdom or experience. I hope I gain a little of it soon. I think I'm going to need it.