Daddy's Little Girl

It's really amazing and frightening how time just seems to fly by...almost without us noticing its' passage.

It seems like yesterday that my daughter was born. A cold winter day. Snow and ice everywhere.

A planned C-Section (I recently taped one for ABC's "World News"...not a pretty sight at all)

I remember it as if it just happened. The way I felt. The way she looked, just like my father's mother.

I love her just as much today as I did then...maybe more profoundly and with greater depth and understanding. Much more appreciation.

She represents me and my past and the future and my whole family back generations.

All fathers are proud (almost all...and a pox on them what ain't...fools.) All fathers (previous parenthetical comment) extoll the virtues of their children and are willing to talk about their children's accomplishments with anyone at anytime (and yet again...) You know the ones. They've got the license plate frame that says, " Let me tell you about my daughter."

Please don't.

I swore when my daughter was born that I would refrain from "waving her flag", from boring people to death with her greatness. I thought it was tedious and when I have had to endure it I have wanted to hang myself. I swore I would never do that to anyone (unless of course I wanted them to leave or hang up and then I would unleash my daughter's copius achievements on them to get the result I was after...with marginal success, I might add)

But I will suspend my self-imposed ban here and now for one brief moment.

She is pretty and smart and bright and talented and strong and compassionate and sensitive and creative and funny and wise beyond her years. We all say that she is a very old soul, inhabiting a very young body.

My daughter is the best at everything.

My daughter knows everything about everything even though she's only been around for a little more than a decade. (Classified ad in the paper: "Brand new encyclopedia for sale. Recently married. Wife knows everything.")

My daughter can do anything.

My daughter rocks!

There...I did it. I did in a few sentences exactly what I've been trying so hard not to do for so long now.

I'm sorry (disingenuously)

Really, I am (with sincerity this time)

I love and respect other children too. I know some truly wonderful little people. I really do think they are terrific too.

They all know who they are and, to their parents, I sincerely apologize if I've offended you in any way by singing my daughter's praises.

I'll never do it again.

Never.

Oh, by the way...did I tell you what my daughter did today...?