Fatherhood

I had apparently brushed aside her bashful requests too long. So over Christmas break our youngest child and only daughter renewed an old petition: She wanted her ears pierced! Such a mundane entreaty has a strange affect on an old dad who finds it a bit disconcerting to watch his little girl mature into a young…well, you know—I can’t even bring myself to write the word.

We sat down on the couch for a talk—a short one for me, a very long and unnecessary one in her estimation. I asked if she couldn’t wait a while longer, like maybe another 30 years or so. I asked rather melodramatically if she had counted the cost—if she was willing to endure the pain and follow the disinfecting regimen without grumbling. Most important I asked her why she wanted her ears pierced. She explained very matter-of-factly that she wanted to “look good.” I explained very matter-of-factly that I had no idea why that mattered or how earrings could help her attain such a ridiculous objective.

She sighed and rolled her eyes a good bit during our conversation. She endured my stall tactics with commendable patience. She also found revolting my insinuation that her request might perhaps be motivated by a desire to impress boys. I found solace in her repugnance toward the notion, while conceding in my mind that my relief is doomed to have a short shelf-life.