I'm told one of the greatest things about being a parent is when your son or daughter greets you at the end of the day by running into your arms happily shrieking 'Daddy.' When is that supposed to happen? I have been trying to get 14-month-old Siena to say 'Dad' for a few weeks now. She just looks at me like I'm crazy (learned that from her 'ma ma'... yeah... that's right... she says mom AND bird).
So my wife had a huge, week-long business meeting in Toronto. She couldn't go without Siena that long (understandable) so she took her with her. My mother-in-law (MIL from here on out) went too, to take care of our little Tasmanian Devil while Mom worked her tail off.
Okay... so here it comes. Are you ready? I swear I'm not making this up. MIL was down in the hotel gift shop with Siena. Siena ran up to a magazine stand, pointed to a magazine with Tiger Woods on the cover, and yelled 'DA DA.' I shudder to think what the headline under Tiger's mug happened to be.
As my wife recounted this story, I happened to be polishing off cold pizza and drinking straight from a 2 liter bottle of pop (there was nobody around to tell me this was uncouth). The finely tuned dude on the magazine cover couldn't have been further from his soda-guzzling, x-large pizza eating counterpart in the Midwest; not to mention other... shall we say... differences in how we spend our spare time.
So, my daughter thinks I'm Tiger. Sorry Siena, DA DA's a little more 'tame' and his bank statements look a little different. Other than that, I will follow Tiger in promising not to throw as many clubs on the golf course from now on.
I would write more, but the house is a mess and the family's coming back soon. I think I pushed that pizza box under the bed and the cat's licking an empty 2 liter bottle.
(Copyright 2010 by KARE. All Rights Reserved.)