Since Monday’s post was all about my son I think today’s post should be all about my little girl… right after I relate one additional thing about my boy.
This morning — Tuesday/Day 6 — my son and I did something we rather enjoy doing and that we had previously done three years ago on a trip to the same town. We climbed to the top of the Currituck Beach Lighthouse. See pictures below.
Why wasn’t my daughter with us? That’s because she was having too much fun hanging with her new girls. From the moment we arrived she gravitated to the other young ladies and it seems they’ve been having quite the time of it. They all screamed something at each other in some sort of “girl code” and then took off for the beach to paint their nails or something. I really don’t know and I’m afraid to ask.
This afternoon my daughter proved once again how she can probably make me do just about anything. The girls (by now a sizable pack numbering somewhere between 8 and 12 and with no discernible leader having emerged) were looking for something to do. Stepping away from the other wolves girls my daughter approached me as I was walking toward the beach.
Daddy, where’s your credit card?
I did not like the sound of this.
“What do you need it for, Sweetheart,” I asked.
“It’s just that the other girls want to go get iced coffee,” she replied, looking almost forlorn.
I knew she couldn’t care less about coffee. She was having so much fun with her new friends and worries that if they all went off on a walk to the donut shop and she stayed behind she’d be somehow out of step with them. Hey, I get it. I’m kind of the same way. They call it “FOMO” – fear of missing out. It’s why I don’t like to sleep.
Being the awesome dad I am I hatched a better plan. Instead of coffee we’d take all the kids for ice cream. This way no one would have to pretend to like coffee. Who doesn’t love ice cream? We walked to Dairy Queen and enjoyed our treats while my son regaled us with the history of that franchise. He’s been watching YouTube videos on corporate America.
And while we were in that shopping plaza we spotted a place I almost immediately regret having spotted. “Look girls! That place does henna tattoos.”
I suppose there are few better ways (or worse) that a father and his daughter can bind together than getting inked up. And it’s henna. It will wash off in a week. She chose a llama. They’re big right now. Me? Well, let’s just say I was feeling patriotic.
The rest of the day was filled with more pool time, a wonderful dinner, and great conversation with our friends.
My daughter is happy her daddy is so cool. Her daddy is happy his daughter is so happy. The other she-wolves probably think we are both strange and amazing – a combination that cannot be undersold in life.
For Indian ink and happy memories with my little girl I am most thankful. Let’s see what tomorrow brings…
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 