Daddy's Little Girl

Friday night I escorted "Daughter" to the Girl Scouts Father/Daughter Dance. "Daughter" had been looking forward to the dance for weeks. True to form, I had been dreading it. It's not that I don't like spending time with "Daughter", I do. It's just that in this instance I was going to have to spend time making small talk with other dads in a high school cafeteria. As the day drew closer, my level of anxiety increased exponentially. The one bright spot was that I wasn't going to have to wear a suit. I rarely, if ever, dress up. I'm one of those guys who only wears a suit for weddings and funerals. Don't get me wrong, I look damn good all cleaned up, but I prefer my unique style of "vacation casual". In their infinite wisdom, the powers that be had decided that this dance would have a luau theme, thus instituting a dress code of tropical dresses and aloha shirts. This was right in my wheel house. If you know anything about me, you know my fondness for the tropical shirt. Nothing covers up my sculpted physique like the untucked camp shirt. I told "Daughter" to just walk into my closet and pick out what she wanted me to wear. So far the dance was shaping up nicely.

There are points of this story that may get mushy, and I know that coming on the heels of my anniversary post, you may be thinking that I'm going soft. I don't think that's possible. There is just something about the relationship between fathers and daughters that brings out the sap in all of us. I had gotten "Daughter" a wrist corsage for the evening. I did this for a couple of reasons. First, because that's just what you do if you're a guy with any class, and second to teach "Daughter" that she should expect this type of behavior in the future. So for any punks reading this who may want to date my daughter in the future, pony up the cash for some flowers, or keep your ass at home.

We got to the dance at the appointed time, and discovered to my horror, that not only did the dance have a luau theme, but a tropical temperature as well. I guess that the school board doesn't authorize after hours cooling. If you've never been to a function like this, it's a lot of waiting in line. First you wait in a line to check in, then you wait in line to get your picture taken, then you wait in line to get your food. I had wondered why the dance was scheduled for four hours, it's because after all that waiting, you can actually dance for about seventeen minutes. I was happy to learn that my good friend Mike was also at the dance, as were a couple of my neighbors. This was good, since I already kind of like talking to these guys and I wouldn't have to mingle with any strangers. The dads all sat together while the girls ran around and had fun with their friends. I could have made a fortune if I had the Girl Scout beer concession. All the dads had that glazed look that screamed out for a cocktail. Next time I'm bringing a flask of Mai Tai's.

"So Brian, did you get up and bust a move?" You bet I did! I had threatened "Daughter" with catastophic humiliation by showing her some of my best moves before we left the house. I told her that I would be popping and doing the robot to beat the band. I decided that some things are better left at home. We did dance a couple of slow songs. There's something about your daughter looking up at you while you're dancing that makes even the toughest guy a little weak in the knees. While "Daddy's Little Girl" was playing I was thinking ahead to "Daughter's" wedding and realizing that she's growing up way too fast. We did the "Chicken Dance" and the "Hokey Pokey". I had never done either of those dances sober. Those are usually done at weddings, and I spend the whole time waiting for a drunken bridesmaid to have a wardrobe malfunction or someone's drunk aunt to fall down and expose herself.

All in all it was a great night. I spent some quality time with "Daughter" and hope she created a memory that will last her for a long time. Maybe it will come in handy on those occasions when I'm an ass. She can remember laughing with me and know that I'm not all bad. I also won a steak dinner in the raffle. The only thing I love more than dancing is free beef. Tomorrow I can go back to being jaded, but today I'm going to burn my own memory of dancing with my daughter, looking down and seeing her beaming up at me. That will help me more than she knows. Later...Brian