The Father Daughter Relationship
Daddies value quiet, calm, cool-headedness, solutions to problems and a frothy lager.
Daughters value love, acceptance, patience and a safe place to dump their volcanic, spuming, flesh-incinerating emotions.
If an unsuspecting Daddy doesn’t understand how a marauding daughter is different than him, he can make things cataclysmically worse when he tries to help.
Daughter: “I hate playing soccer because I always play goalie and it’s always my fault when we lose.”
Daddy: “It’s not just your fault. That ball has to get past the defense to get into the goal. It’s the defense’s fault if that ball gets to you.”
Daughter: “How can you say that about Paloma?? She’s doing the best she can!”
Daddy: “Who’s Paloma?”
Daughter: “She’s my fullback. Oh my God, Daddy, don’t you know anything?”
Daddy: “Let’s stay on topic.”
Daughter: “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Daddy: “If you hate playing goalie, why don’t you ask your coach to switch you?”
Daughter: “Then all the other girls will hate me, because no one wants to play goalie!”
Daddy: “Then why don’t you just quit!!! Just quit!! Ahhhh!” (Screaming into a pillow.)
Daughter: “I’m sick of school. I’m sick of my friends. And I’m sick of our family!”
Daddy: “How can you say that when all your teachers, friends and family love you so much?”
Daughter: “Okay, I’m mean. I get it! Why do you even let me live in this house?”
Daddy: “I think you’re over-reacting. It’s probably because you’ll be getting your first period soon.”
Daughter: “Oh my God, Daddy! How could you say that? You just permanently traumatized me!”
Daddy: “You always feel traumatized when you’re hungry. Why don’t you eat something?”
Daughter: “You don’t understand anything! Ahhhh!” (Screaming noise, and not even into a pillow.)”
Yet Another Little Snippet
Daddy: “Honey, you’ve got to get up, you’ll be late for school.”
Daddy: “Come on, kid. I’m serious. You can’t just lie there like a gut-shot soldier.”
Daughter: “Mflllfleave mflflme alone.”
Daddy: “If you don’t get up this instant, I’m taking away your iphone!”
Daughter: (sudden and dramatic explosion of tears) “Fine! See if I care. Now that Sam Woolf was kicked off American Idol, nothing matters anymore.”
Mommy walks in.
Mommy: “What’s going on in here?”
Daughter: “Sam Woolf was raised by his grandparents, because his parents got divorced and went crazy!”
Mommy: “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry he got kicked off Idol last night.”
Mommy takes Daughter into her arms and holds her.
Daughter: “Thanks Mommy, I love you so much!”
Mommy: “I love you too, Sweetheart.”
Daddy: “What the fuck just happened here?”
Daughter: (to Mom) “Daddy dropped an f-bomb. You never do that.”
Mommy: “I know.”
Daughter: “I guess I should get ready for school. I don’t want to be late.”
Mommy: “Just let me hug you a little longer.”
Mommy gazes over the top of Daughter’s head at Daddy who lays like a gut-shot soldier across Daughter’s bedroom floor.
Their eyes meet. Mommy makes the letter “L” out of her index finger and thumb and places it against her forehead. Daddy flips her the bird.
Daughter: “Oh my God, Daddy! What is wrong with you??”
(The Daughter mentioned in this piece is an amalgam of several pubescent daughters, known throughout the land, and certainly isn’t one of my own pubescent daughters, who are nothing but Heaven and Light!)