Happy Birthday To The Dark Haired Beauty
The midnight hour approaches and I am wide awake. Today we celebrated the dark haired beauty’s fourth birthday. And like so many other parents I can’t help but wonder how she got to be this age.
Really, it was just yesterday that she was in utero and we were wondering who would come to greet us. At this time four years ago she had been in the world for all of 20 minutes or so. I remember staring at her, counting her fingers and toes, confirming that everything was right with her.
One of the first things that I noticed was a ton of dark curly hair on her head. I remember smiling as I realized that if nothing else we shared the same hair color.
So here I am four years later, the proud dad of a girl that continuously amazes me. She was born with a mind of her own and has never been shy about showing it. She hasn’t any problem telling you what she wants.
Last night she told me that she wanted to play with me and I of course said sure. I got to be the baby. She made me lie down on the couch and then covered me with a blanket. For the next half hour or so she alternated between telling me stories, patting my back and singing songs.
And did I mention that she tried to do my hair. For some reason she is determined to try and give me a pony tail. It makes me laugh. I wore a flat top for close to 25 years and then when it got a bit thin for that kept it cropped pretty short.
In spite of this the girl still tried to coax my hair into a clip and then some sort of rubber band thing, but to no avail. Her own hair is filled with the sort of curls that make women stop and stare in admiration. It falls to the middle of her shoulders, unless it is wet in which case it hits her middle back.
I told her that if she loaned me some hair I’d be happy to let her put it up for me. She said sure, as long as it didn’t mean cutting it and then instructed me not to cut my hair for at least ten years. I asked her why she said ten and she told me that by then it would be long enough to give me a pony.
Per her request we took her out to her favorite restaurant for dinner. It was a great meal, at least I very much enjoyed it. She on the other hand decided to wear it. Ok, she didn’t want to, but was graced with the gift of vomit covered clothing. Upon our arrival home we cleaned her up and put her to bed.
She then decided that we didn’t have enough laundry to do and covered her bed twice in the remnants of dinner. Once again I cleaned her up, but this time I took her in my arms and let her rest her head on my shoulder. For a good half hour or so we sat on the couch and I told her stories until she finally passed out.
And now I can see her lying in her bed. She is asleep and hopefully will remain that way for the rest of the night. She sleeps the way I used to. Once she goes down she is out for the count. It is a deep, restful sleep that I can’t seem to copy.
I find it relaxing to watch her sleep. I sit her wondering what she’ll look like when she is older and wonder what she’ll be like as a teen and an adult. Don’t get me wrong, I want her to stay a child for as long as possible. Adult life comes far too quickly.
Oh, did I mention that I am having her brother trained in various disciplines of death. When the young suitors come the big boy and I will be ready for them. I know how those boys think, I used to be one. Do I really have to let her date. Oy, I can’t think about this right now.
Anyhoo, the dear girl has gotten short shrift in this blog as it feels like I have spent far more time writing about her brother. So as part of my penance here are some links to some past posts about her.
The Princess Speaks
Daddy You Died
My Daughter’s Favorite Book
A Big Girl Bed
Death Comes For Us All- When Do you Start Saying Goodbye
She Needs To Know About Boys
Penis Talk Revisited
His Penis Is In The Wrong Place
Dancing WIth My Daughter