Reality has crashed my family 'club'
Doug Robinson
"A horse," she answered.
It didn't work out that way.
She turned into a woman instead.
This surprised me more than if she had turned into an Appaloosa.
A woman? When did that happen?
Yesterday she was running scared into the master bedroom in the middle of the night to sleep between her parents, a veritable hot-water bottle with thrashing arms and legs.
Yesterday I was taking her trick-or-treating in her duck costume with the little plastic beak and begging her to call it quits long after she wore out her older brothers.
Yesterday we were playing "sharks" in the family room — it's complicated, but I was the shark and the couch was her boat.
Yesterday I was riding bikes side by side with her to and from school as her personal escort.
Yesterday she was building "fairy houses" out of acorns, twigs and bark in the woods around our house.
Yesterday she was dancing in dance recitals and having sleepovers.
Yesterday she was choreographing a father-daughter dance routine that we practiced in the living room on stormy days, set to a popular song of the day that we no longer can recall.
Yesterday she was writing frequent notes for me like the one that is still taped on the wall by my desk — "I love you and hope you keep this in your office so it will remind you."
Yesterday her favorite date was riding horses with me.
Yesterday she was driving around town with a Razor kick scooter in the back of her Rodeo, so if ever there was a dull moment, such as having to wait for someone, she could pull the scooter out and zip around the driveway to pass the time.
Yesterday she was scooting over to sit on the middle seat in the back of the car even when there was a vacant place by the window, so she could sit next to one of her brothers.
Yesterday she was a little girl, and it seemed she would stay that way forever, and I couldn't remember a time before her. Then time seemed to accelerate, a blur of school dances and dates and part-time jobs and high school graduation and a houseful of loud giggling girlfriends and college.
Suddenly she had a closet of more than 100 shoes (I counted) — who was this, Imelda Marcos? Suddenly she knew the difference between Versace and Vuitton. Suddenly she wore high heels and was 6 feet tall. Suddenly she liked boys other than moi.
Suddenly, she was a woman.
Suddenly, she was married, as of last weekend.
Can we rewind the videotape and go back? I want to do it all again. I want to take it all in a second time.
Recent comments
Nice article. But I have to wonder about the beautiful young women...
Anonymous | June 5, 2008 at 9:10 a.m.
Congratulations Doug. You have a beautiful daughter and she will...
Alan Cunningham | June 4, 2008 at 11:11 a.m.
Loved the column. As the father of two married daughters (and one...
Bruce | June 3, 2008 at 7:04 p.m.
