Daddy’s girl

If there was ever a Daddy’s Girl, it would be my daughter.

Going into it, I knew that my husband would be a good father. He turned out to be a great father, even if his baby girl has him wrapped around her little finger.

From day one he was a hands-on dad. He wanted to be part of every aspect of her life. There were some iffy times when pungent bodily fluids were involved, but he at least made a valiant attempt.

My husband was never shy about telling nosy, little old ladies to mind their own business when they offered unsolicited advice to a new father. Telling one such blue-hair who challenged him about whether our then 18-month old was dressed warmly enough, that ‘she’s a baby, not a tropical flower.

That fierce belief that he knows what’s best for his daughter has not lessen in the intervening years.

Through it all, he has been coach, tutor, chauffeur, protector, counselor, banker, co-conspirator, and friend. He has been supportive, encouraging, stern when needed, and always loving.

In a few short weeks, his baby girl is leaving the nest. They have already made one trip to her new town apartment hunting. As much as she has done on her own to find a place to live, she still wanted her dad to make the initial trip with her. She still wanted her dad’s help, to listen to his advice and lean on him for support

Maybe because I remember how it was moving out of my mom’s house for the last time, I’m very excited for our daughter. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll miss her terribly, but I think this will be doubly hard on her dad. She will always be his little girl, but she is stretching her wings and flying free.

Submitted as part of Shell’s “Pour Your Heart Out” writing prompt at Things I Can’t Say. Please stop by to read the other posts, and give a little comment love.

*I promised my husband that I would protect his privacy and never show him where he could be recognized. I have never shown my son’s face either, and even though he is 18, I continue to adhere to that policy. Now that she is at the age of consent, I ask my daughter for her permission to show her face publicly.