In My Daughter’s Eyes…

Times remain busy. Since I last posted with anything significant we’ve had the holidays, an exciting football season of tailgating (my team undefeated and earning honors as second in the nation), a 800-person high school reunion in Miami, the annual Funny Farm reunion in the Alabama woods enjoying four days with a dozen guys I’ve known for just under forty years (high school football mates all, some of these also college mates, and still some others of these also military mates), and our annual Krewe of Krime rolls this Saturday for Mardi Gras. All serve as good fodder for entries, but where’s the time?

Of all this, however, my favorite time remains the holiday season. Particularly since it serves as the only time of the year now when all three of my kids are home at the same time it seems. Three days of fun and foolishness this year.

I decided to lay off my second son, the middle child, this year. He’s the most gullible and excitable so consistently serves as an easy target. Instead, I chose to pick on the youngest…the daughter…the twenty-six year old Femi-Nazi tree hugger. She missed a few generations and would have been a model hippie in the 60s with her social conscious larger than reality could ever accommodate. She has pretty much dedicated herself to worthy causes since high school and has had considerable positive impact on the family while vehemently debating and/or keeping a stiff upper lip on the causes that bring jeers and relentless teasing from her father and two older brothers. She got us all to recycle – that is a good thing. She’s a devout vegetarian – that is an impossible thing. She would likely be the local chapter president of PETA if time would allow, but working full-time and going to grad school full-time gives her little other time at all (slacker).

She even started her first semester undergrad (putting her resume for Greenpeace on hold) as a Forestry major with visions of saving all the trees and wildlife her 110-pound frame would allow. As with most freshman, it’s not the major she earned however. As a matter of fact, she may hold the school’s record for shortest time in a declared major. In her first hour of Forestry 101 she found herself surrounded by other Forestry majors…bubbas…all on the edge of their seats soaking up the wisdom provided in the course’s first lecture: “How to Clear-Cut an Entire Forest and Still Bag the Maximum Game Limit.” It was said her screaming out of the class led the instructor to the conclusion that she would not likely be back.

In honor of that significant event in her life, I chose to memorialize the memory this past Christmas. I shopped months in advance until I found just the right gift.

As is the family tradition for the season, we gather on the covered patio outside with friends and family pretty much for the duration of the holiday (our “open house” concept pretty much) and see if we can break previous years’ records for the number and shortest elapsed time of empties (beer and wine). [And yes…keys collected…no traveling allowed until a new-show gets stuck with the errands prior to participating]

Jill and her best friend arrived after most of the rest of the family this year so her two brothers and close friends of her brothers welcomed her and gave her a verbal list of what was needed – she had to go to the store. I had anticipated this. I told her she and her friend could take my car, the Batmobile, which would make the boys’ demanding list of needs more palatable. Off she went.

I got up from the patio, went inside to get my gift for her, and then brought it out to display. The boys of course were curious and came to see what I was doing. Then they doubled over with laughter and told me I was putting my life in real danger and they would have none of it. Chickenshits – take after their mother.

Not long after, Jill returned from her mission and settled in for the celebration, noticing nothing. Within minutes, her oldest brother asked what was the name of that “band” she was promoting with her car rear-window decal (she does have two of those). She turned to identify the particular decal in question and then a look of shock overtook her, followed quite closely by “What in the hell is that on my car??!!” After she moved to check more closely, she let out a shriek of disgust.

Nicely applied and covering most of her rear window was a very nice decal silhouette of a deer head (with a nice rack I might add). I’m sure many of you have seen such on the truck windows of hunters. This one was even more special (and was truly a special find for me). In large letters on the decal just below the deer head silhouette was the tender message: “If It’s Brown, It’s Down.”

Now…isn’t that just the sweetest thing?

But that is not the best part.

The BEST part was her quick-march over to us with arms folded across her chest with eyes blazing at me. When she was about three feet from me she stopped, looked me straight in the eye, and said…”Dad, how could you let those boys do that??!!”

THAT was the best part.

And the boys were laughing much too hard to offer any defense whatsoever so I had plenty of time to milk that opportunity. As in, “Jill, I’m sorry, I just can’t control these boys anymore…”

She knew her sweet Daddy could never do such a thing….

{Postscript – I’m sure it was just as comical to see five grown men working their asses off to get that damn super-adhesive decal off post-haste too. The boys were right about that. My life did depend on that happening.}