My Daughter Is 17 Today And I Am Scared
My daughter, Sarah, is 17 today. This simple fact has brought me two very conflicting emotions. Joy and fear and not in that order. In fact, even my joy is more than a little afraid.
I always thought I was going to be one of those cool dads. You know the kind I'm talking about. The dad who doesn't get crazy protective who's open-minded about everything. The dad who wouldn't be so dorky and out of touch with his daughter's generation as to appear awkward. Boy, was I wrong.
It's like that scene from the Steve Martin movie "Father of the Bride" where his grown daughter says something and he sees her as a little girl.
My daughter hasn't delivered that news to me at this point, but I definitely identify with Steve Martin's character's emotion. She tells me about 17-year-old stuff and I hear it as if she is still the 5-year-old that I remember.
Let me say one other thing as a father of a now 17-year-old daughter. Boys suck.
Meet Dillon. This is my daughter's boyfriend. Boys suck. But, you know the real suck of this? Dillon is a nice kid. That makes it hard for me to embrace my fatherly instinct to hate him.
Happy birthday, Sarah. Your 17 years on this Earth sure have flown by. I hope you have many more great ones ahead of you and that you don't make any of the mistakes your dad made. One tip I will give you, always wash your hands after applying Icy Hot. You never know what you will touch next. Anyway, happy birthday. Your crotchety old dad loves you.