Fatherhood is no fairytale if
you have daughters
By John Ryan
The room in Norwich was packed with people out for a good night. There
were a whole manner of celebrations going on but the one that took my
eye was directly in front of the stage.
Surrounded by balloons and a group of 30 people sat one of the most stunning
girls I have ever seen. It was her 18th birthday and her laughter filled
the room. There was not a man in the place that hadn’t looked at
her at some stage in the evening and during the interval a succession
of lads tried to go and chat to her.
However they were all wasting their time as there was a man guarding her
like a CIA agent protects the President. He sat beside her returning the
stares of men; in a way that made them sure he would kill anyone who approached
her.
“That’s her dad,” I said immediately recognising the
way he sat with her.
“He’s like a lion protecting a piece of meat!” said
the compere.
The opening act stood leering and told me that the man should leave her
to live her own life. I laughed at the fool — how could he understand
the bond between father and daughter?
The show started and I watched baffled by the first two acts trying to
chat her up from the stage making ever cruder remarks in an attempt to
win her over with laughter.
I was fascinated by her father and could see in his eyes that he was thinking
of all the ways that he could hurt them. I wondered if this was to be
my future? Okay so it is a few years off yet but I know it will come around
soon enough. Soon my little princess will be nine. NINE! The time has
flown and she grows more beautiful by the day.
Where have the years gone? I used to pick her clothes out and now she
tells me what to wear. Where once I read her fairytales I now listen in
wonderment as she reads Roald Dahl.
This admiration isn’t always mutual and this morning she informed
me that: “I am not a little kid anymore!” before slamming
the door and stamping up the stairs, devastated by the injustice of not
being able to have cucumber for breakfast.
“It is full of vitamins!” she roared.
“Very clever and, erm, strongwilled!” I said proudly to her
mother who shook her head at my inability to see wrong in the child. I
can’t help it; she has had me in a trance since the day she was
born.
The midwife had presented her to me with: “Congratulations you have
a daughter.”
“Hello” I mumbled gazing at the newborn princess. I gave her
a big smile and felt tears of Pride rise in my eyes as I looked at this
bundle of beauty. She smiled back at me and I knew that her mother had
lost sole ownership of my heart.
With hindsight I should have recognised the rumbling sound in her tummy
but it was too late and she emptied her bowels onto my arms. The princess
didn’t wait; there was no “excuse me” and no warning
at all.
“It’s okay it is good luck!” I said already excusing
her behaviour. The thing is though; she maintained eye contact the whole
time she was doing it. When she had finished she smiled and as I stood
there dripping I knew my place.
Our relationship since then has been marked by her trying to get her own
way using a gorgeous smile to justify anything. She dominates her brothers
in the same way. I have often come home to find them playing school which
involves them silently reading while she watches TV as “to be a
teacher you have to research!”
The boys shrug and say it keeps her quiet. Girls are just so different.
At parents evenings I am told she is: “Very assertive.” I
have confused many a teacher by thanking them for allowing her to develop
a confident personality. I am not sure they always mean it as a good thing
but I won’t hear of anything else.
In the playground she has a succession of would be admirers and I practice
chasing them away. I know that when the inevitable teenage boys come knocking
I will be ready. I shall answer the door to any would-be boyfriends stark
naked. I will hold a rose between my teeth and a bottle of massage oil.
“No she’s not in mate. Why don’t you come in and we
can wrestle in my room?”
That should scare them away. I guess I will have to let her go eventually
but I will go down fighting.
I walked out on stage in Norwich and immediately shook hands with the
birthday girl’s dad and got the audience to give him a cheer. I
explained how it takes a real man to allow a girl to grow into an independent
woman. From the look on his face I could tell he was waiting for a leg
pull. Was I trying to charm him to get to his daughter or was I trying
to chat him up?
We talked afterwards and I said that I felt sadness that one day my little
princess would become a young woman. He shook his head and said that if
you are fortunate and it goes well that is what happens. “Enjoy
the time while they are young —they can’t stay kids forever,”
he said as he left.
I suppose he is right. There and then I decided to stop off on the way
home to pick up some cucumber for the birthday breakfast. I am not giving
in I am just allowing her to be a child a little longer. I shall look
forward to her growing up and only hope that she won’t meet any
boys that like wrestling. |
