I nearly went toe-to-toe with an 8-year-old the other day in what would have been a showdown of epic proportions. I thought it would take longer, but it didn’t.
I didn’t, mind you, but he totally deserved it.
Both kids started new daycare/after-school programs recently and once in a while they cross paths. On mornings we get out of the house early, Maren helps me drop Brant off. Other days I swoop by and get Brant on the way to get Maren.
The problem, well it’s only my problem, and it’s probably only in my head, only happens on mornings when we drop Brant off first. We have to walk through the cafeteria where some kids are waiting to catch the bus to school and a few weeks ago, out of the corner of my eye, I caught one kid pointing and whispering to his friend.
Probably pointing out the new kid, I thought. How cute, my kids are fitting right in.
But it continued. Every day, the same thing. One day I heard one whisper “There she is!”
He meant my kid. My daughter. My only daughter. And he liked her. Like boy-like-girl like her.
It was on. I almost took him out right there, just like you see in the movies or on TV when the over-protective father has the talk with the boy about to go on a date with his only daughter. I never wanted to be that dad, but it sure looks like I’m gonna be.
I’m not ready for it, and I’m sure it’s an innocent thing. That doesn’t make it any less shocking. Or less difficult to deal with.
So at least now I know I need to start to get ready for that day. I know it’s a pretty good drive down the road, but now it seems like it’s just around the bend.