Alone time

My oldest daughter is growing up so fast, it’s like she’s a whole different kid. I don’t know if every parent goes through this or not, but it seems like I’m always hanging out with my son and don’t get much time with my daughters.
Not on purpose, mind you. It just so happens that my wife usually takes the girls to practice, shopping, etc. And if my son and one of the girls happen to have a game or something on the same day, it usually works out that I take my son and my wife takes the girls.
I’ve been thinking lately that I need to be closer to my girls, like spend more time with them. The numbers don’t lie- girls who grow up with dads that play a big role in their lives just do better with grades, teen pregnancies, drugs, stuff like that.
The problem comes when I try to get that time with them. First I have to explain to my son why I’d want to hang out with one of the girls instead of him. He would take that as a slap in the face. Then I have to convince one of my girls to spend time with me for no reason, and actually talk to me instead of texting nonstop, or listening to terrible music through headphones. That’s not easy. The only person that likes to spend time alone with me is, well, me.
But I got my chance to be alone with my oldest daughter this week. She had a dentist appointment, so I picked her up at school and took her myself.
As we walked from the school to my jeep, I saw her taking her headphones out and thought to myself “Here’s your chance.”
“Hey,” I told her. “Let’s leave the headphones off and talk a little on the drive there.”
“Am I in trouble for something?” she asked.
“No, just thought we’d talk.”
“How come? I mean, like, about what?”
“I don’t know. Just stuff I guess.”
So we get going, and immediately I can tell that talking will be a problem. I forgot how loud it is inside my jeep with the big tires and the plastic top. There’s nothing worse than trying to have a normal conversation, but having to scream everything.
“So how was your day?” I asked.
“Sir?”
“I said, how was your day!”
“Fine.”
“Huh?”
“Fine!”
“What did y’all have for lunch today?”
“What?”
“What did y’all have for lunch!”
“Chicken! Or something like chicken. Dad, my throat hurts. Please don’t make me scream, okay?”
I had to admit, she had a point. It was like watching two old people with bad hearing aids talk to each other over short wave radios. Neither one has a clue what the other one is trying to say, and it just makes you mad after a while.
Guess we should have just texted each other.

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