Meaningful Glances

Just a small entry today. On Tuesday, Evelyn suffered a near tragic consequence for not listening to her Daddy - no trip to the mall. Cruel, I know - but don't go calling child services just yet. We're headed to that most treasured of Daddy Day destinations not long after this gets posted. I just had to declare publicly how much I love being this little girl's dad.

One of her favorite ways to play lately has been to pretend to go and get all kinds of different food and bring them back to me. "You stay right here," she'll say, "I close the door so Scout can't get in here." There'll be a few fading footsteps, about 2 seconds pause, then rapidly approaching footsteps as she returns with her imaginary food. We must have had gallons of pretend lemonade together over the life of this game, not to mention quite a bit of tea, and let's not neglect choc-o-late (spoken reverently around here) - we've had lots of that, too. But Evelyn came up with a new one the other night. "I'm gonna go get s'more of my favorites," she announced, disappearing behind a door jamb. A second later, her head popped back in to view. "What are you going to get?" I asked. A very serious, somewhat conspiratorial look settled on her face as she thoughtfully replied, "Ariel. Jerky. Butterfly treats." I couldn't help but laugh a little. "Wow, Evelyn, that sounds...exotic." "Yeah, dad - they have candy in 'em...and grape juice...and [unintelligible]...and grape juice...and they're just soooo delicious." And off she went to fetch Ariel jerky butterfly treats for the both of us. I have to say, they were every bit as delicious as she made them out to be. For our next course, Evelyn announced - and here I should explain that I was laying on the bed, where I had been reading before this little game started, so Evelyn was standing at eye level with me - that we would be having CHOC-O-LATE next. Only she leaned in as she drew the word out, to approximately half an inch from my right eyeball. Close enough to count taste buds had I not closed my eyes reflexively. Even imaginary chocolate is something to get excited about as far as she's concerned.

There are, of course, events in the course of being dad to a 3-year old that cause me to go from zero to destructive rage in less than a second (as opposed to constructive rage...I guess), but even the moments that frustrate are part of a whole experience that I wouldn't give up for anything. Before we head out the door on our date, let me tell what a few of my favorite things are - and I promise they don't involve whiskers on kittens or brown paper packages (though those are kind of neat).

I love that Evelyn rushes up to the stage on Sunday during the greeting time at church, carefully climbs the first two steps, then runs at me with her arms out and a big shout of "Daddy!"

I love hearing her say "You came back!" when I've just been away for a few minutes at the store.

I love her eagerness to have books read to her, especially when she hands me a book, climbs up next to me, then leans on me while I read it.

I love helping her to get over a disappointment, even when that disappointment is discipline related.

I love holding her hand while she gallops through the mall, or the park, or any other place we go.

I love getting buckled in to the car and reaching back before we leave the driveway for a "slap 'n' tap" (low five followed by a fist bump).

I love to hear her prayers at bedtime (but I do NOT love butterfly kisses therafter, thank you very much, Bob Carlisle).

I love to hear her tell me how silly I am.

I love whispering to her what fun the next day holds when it's time to sleep.

I love my job.