Heaven save us from Little Girls!

Posted by The Perfessor Published in Domestic Bliss

This isn’t what it looks like.

To be sure, I’m not entirely sure what it looks like, but it isn’t that.

My beautiful and lovely daughter is 13, and well, totally a girl (whatever that means). I’ve always described my son as my Zen child. few things faze him, and he simply exists in a world that swirls chaotically around him. My daughter, she’s another story altogether.

The world around her is so full of daily drama that it is a wonder that she can get anything done. I love her dearly, but I am deeply confounded by her, well, girlishness.

Let me backtrack. I do the laundry in my house (don’t faint ladies, it arose out of expedience). Something that was established very early on in our relationship; my wife, you see, goes to work, while I (as a freelancer) have worked mostly out of the house. Hence it simply became easier for me to toss a load in the laundry, and let it run while I wrote.

Over the years, laundry simply became one of my chores. No big deal, especially as I used to help my mother out with laundry, and other household chores when I was younger (I was the daughter that she never had, and I love saying that because every time I do, it pisses off my sister.)

I’ve long since learned to go through the pockets of everyone’s clothes, because, well, stuff that shouldn’t be washed often gets left in them. Some years back, I established the custom that any money I found in the pockets was mine. (Hey, I was doing the laundry, wasn’t I?)

Anyway, as a parent. I also established that I have the right to open and read my kid’s email, know their passwords, and monitor their web visits, TV watching, and musical tastes, along with their friends and every other aspect of their life (I could snoop in their rooms if I felt it necessary, all thinks I reserve the right to do, but mostly don’t have to, you parents understand).

It seems that my daughter has finally found her pockets. Well, I found the note at the top of this post in her pants this morning as I was doing the laundry. Being the previously- established parent, I read it (as stated, I just like knowing). I was hysterical in the reading, and felt that it was so funny, that I wanted to share it.

Oh yeah, the baby pic I’ve posted, that’s Kayla Rose a month old, the gold bracelet on her hand, that’s my wedding band. Yes, you read that right, that’s my wedding band.