Daddy’s little girl
Sep 7th, 2006 by Accidental Thinker
Maia has always been a Daddy’s girl. Small wonder… he has a bit of kid in him himself and makes a great playmate. He does all kinds of fun things with her. I make her do her homework and clean her room.
Maia and Daddy have a special routine they perform every morning. When Kent leaves the house to drop Noah at daycare, he checks to make sure the front door is locked. Then after he’s strapped Noah into his carseat, he walks around to check it again, from the outside. And every day, like clockwork, Maia is standing just inside the door waiting for him. While Kent wiggles and jiggles and rattles the door to make sure the lock is just as secure as it was on the inside, testing its ability to withstand attempted break ins, Maia waves to him through the window and recites the same thing, every single day. "Bye Daddy, I love you Daddy, have a good day at work Daddy." I doubt he can hear her through the closed door, but she says it anyway. Every. Single. Day.
Last night at Maia’s dance class, I bumped into a parent whose daughter is in Maia’s class at school. She had a story she had been waiting to tell me. It seems that one day a week or two ago, this parent was at school helping in her other daughter’s class, when she bumped into Maia in the hallway. Maia was crying her little heart out all the way down the hall. The mother, being concerned that something tragic must have happened, asked Maia what was wrong. Maia’s response? She had had a fight with her Daddy that morning and forgot to kiss him goodbye. My sensitive daughter was heartbroken because she didn’t kiss her Daddy goodbye.
She gets it from Kent. My husband the family man never, and I mean never, leaves the house without kissing us all and telling us he loves us. I’ve pointed out to him a couple of times that he acts like he’ll never see us again. He says you never know. And you know what? It’s true. You just never know when this time might be the last time you’ll have an opportunity to show your loved ones that you care. And besides, it’s always nicer to part, even just for a quick outing of errands, on sweet terms rather than sour ones.
It’s amazing what you can learn from a 7-year-old and her beloved Daddy.
Thats so true. I feel for her, her guilt and anguish. But she’s right, you never know. The last thing I said to my husband before he went into a coma was “I’ll see you in a little while. I love you.”
Being a daddy is fun and you really never do know. What a cool story.
What a sweet story. Now that mine are all teenagers, this brings back some great memories of when they were younger.