Dear Daughter of the Future,
You’re a big 3rd grader now. Where did those eight years go? In another eight you’ll be operating a motor vehicle on the streets of Los Angeles, which scares me considering the idiots who drive here (wait till the first rain falls and watch the automotive equivalent of a “slip and slide” play out in front of you). I need to buy you a vehicle covered in spikes, a porcupine of a car, guaranteed to keep other vehicles at bay. Perhaps, I could get you a matching jumper to wear?
You’ve become quite the funny prankster and your personality reveals itself more each day. I’m concerned that I might be rubbing off on you and I hope you follow your mother’s path in life. She is kind and loving and smells good. What are the antonyms for those words? That’s me. You’re in good, lotioned hands with your mom. Be like her.
I have noticed something interesting about you – you are a missile. Yes, a missile on a course all its own. We have little control over you. Yep, you blasted off and we’re sitting on the deck eating popcorn watching you fly through the sky, missing planes and birds by inches. At best, we can hope to nudge you in a slightly different direction, help you avoid tall, unforgiving skyscrapers in your path. Like any parent, I wish I could download all of the mistakes I’ve made and you’d have a roadmap. But your “missileness” won’t allow that, will it? The good news is you’re much smarter than I. But so is everyone else. Lukewarm news might be more accurate.
Here’s one thing I cannot tell you right now – the amount of 3rd grade homework sucks. I have to be a parent and go with the program for the sake of your future, but holy moly they give you a lot to do after school. I feel bad almost to the point that I want to do it for you. I could knock off those math sheets for you pretty quick. Sorry, not allowed. Against the rules. However, when you read this one day, yes, I agree, it’s a lot. Not only that, is math really necessary anymore? Shouldn’t they have classes like “Repairing the damage the generations ahead of us did to the planet” and “101 ways to cook with leftover plastic”?
Once again, my apologies for messing up your blog. Your mother will have some serious censoring to do (sorry, honey. What did you expect?).
Love to you and your mom. xoxoxoxox
Your daughter is lucky to have you for her father, but does she realize yet that other fathers don’t wear the bag over their heads?
Nice of you to say. We’ll see if she feels lucky in 10 or 15 years.
Regarding the bag on my head, other fathers have now adopted the look so I’m not alone anymore. One has even robbed a bank wearing it.
Best to you,
I have been trying to think of something witty and clever to say, but no good, all that keeps coming to my mind is Daughter’s Rock!!
You’re at a loss for words? No. It can’t be. That’s a first. Well then, I’m a loss of words about your loss of words.
love these letters. you have 8 years till the driving. oh man, my son has 8 months! i am not looking forward to him driving in NY…
Yikes. 8 months? Scary. These kids are like fast moving clocks. I wish they’d grow up slower. Thanks for the visit and comment. Best wishes to your aunts and family.
You are one loving Father. You have so much love in the years to come and any child reading your words would see how your life is driven. You are making a big difference in this child and it shows.