My daughter’s about as shy as former President Bill Clinton at a Jenny Craig meeting so I wasn’t surprised that she introduced herself to a woman working at the supermarket as I battened down her hatches before we braved the cold outside. The shocker was the way she did it.
“What’s your name?” my daughter asked.
“I’m Rose, what’s yours?” worker asked.
“I’m (name), and this is my friend, Daddy.”
Rose and I laughed and my daughter continued telling her about the rest of our family.
This incident impressed me in a couple of ways. One was that she gave a proper and eloquent introduction like she’s been doing it for years and another was that she considers me a friend. This pleased me the most because too often we’re more like adversaries, but she must know that’s just part of the job of being a parent. That or she just enjoys the vocal sparring that sometimes brings me to tears. I mean, brings her to tears. Yeah, that’s it, because she never gets the best of me… that she knows of… I hope.
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