PANIC! With a deadline approaching, I was typing so fast that my fingers were distorting the space-time continuum and causing a small black hole to suck paperclips off my desk.
Then the phone rang.
I snatched it up, expecting to have to tell my boss that I would be finished in a matter of seconds.
But out of the phone came an unearthly wail.
“Daaaaaad,” said my daughter's voice. “My pink thing broke. The pink thing with the red things on.”
I had to ask: “What pink thing?”
“THE ONE WITH THE RED THINGS ON,” she screamed.
I could hear her collapsing with the phone onto the floor, in need of a MAJOR remote comforting session.
All hope of meeting my deadline vanished.
*
Weep for us fathers of girls. What a burden we carry! Men, let's be honest, find women to be strange, unpredictable creatures. We ALSO find children to be frightening, irrational beings. So when we find ourselves raising female children, it’s a double whammy so scary it’s off the chart.
Almost everything about raising girls is a “girl thing”, ie, an unfathomable mystery that men can never understand.
Such were my thoughts as I surveyed the scene at a “Dads and Daughters Dance” at a club.
Men in identical dark gray suits sat having identical conversations over identical drinks.
Their girls, undeniably a different species, flitted around like peacocks at a fancy dress party.
*
A reporter once asked me whether raising a girl differed from raising a boy. “It’s like comparing apples and chalk,” I said. “You can quote me on that.”
*
There are many books about the incredibly strong and complex emotions in mother-daughter relationships. These are so powerful that when mommy and daughter have a row, you can actually see your windows bulging outwards.
My advice: leave the room.
Leave the city.
Leave the country.
*
But there’s one men-only skill that works very well with female children. It’s an important Guy Trait that rarely gets appreciated.
Women are always telling men that they never grow up. They say it as if it’s a bad thing.
The day before writing this article, I visited a woman with whom I once worked. She had been arguing with her eight-year-old daughter for FOUR HOURS. The little girl was lying on the floor, hammering her feet and fists on the parquet. The woman was giving her long lectures about Behavior and Respect.
I sat down beside her and said: “I'm going to throw a watermelon off the roof to see what happens. It's going to explode EVERYWHERE. Then I'm going to pick up the bits and eat them.”
The child stopped crying immediately and turned to face me. “Eww,” she said. “That's so gross. Can I watch?”
I said: “Sure.”
She sprang to her feet, tantrum forgotten, and followed me out of the room.
“How did you come up with that?” her mother asked. “What a brilliant way to capture a child’s attention.”
I wondered whether to tell her the truth. I didn’t come up with that
idea to distract her daughter. I really had been planning to throw a watermelon off the roof to see what happens. Is there anything more fun than mindless destruction? It just seemed to me such an obvious way to pass a weekend afternoon.
But I decided to keep my mouth shut. She wouldn’t understand. It’s a guy thing.
*











Bugs at the bus stop, getting chased by security guards for giving Xmas cookies to foriegn domestic workers, now watermelon off the roof? The only person I know more in touch with his inner child is Bill Watterson. Keep it up Nury :)
Posted by: Mike | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 12:20 PM
Is there anything more fun that mindless destruction.
Perhaps there are more people for whom Uncle Fester was a role model, other than just myself!Posted by: sej | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 12:29 PM
the above mother-daughter story reminds me of my mom and me. usually she's the one who throw tantrums at me for various reasons from time to time. one thing i learnt... moms can really talk!!!! she can go on for hours and i zone out and think about falling asleep, how would she look if her head turned into a pumpkin (:D)or sing a song in my head. sadly my father refuses to bring out his inner child when i face the situation and does the most guy-est thing possible... sleep.
Posted by: farah | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 12:52 PM
Nury,
In fact, there must be a whole heap of people who think of Uncle Fester as a role model.
I was walking through the University of New South Wales the other day (what a bland, boring campus that is!). At one point, on the ground was what was obviously the impact zone of a watermelon. Looking around, there were bits of watermelon spread over quite an area. Looking slightly further afield, there were two more impact points, of what appeared this time, to be rock melons. Clearly, these were all launched from some height up a set of stairs that climbed the side of the nearby building.
Posted by: sej | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 01:52 PM
@farah Come on don't spoil it! All these years I was under the impression that my situation was special and all that.;-) Then again, maybe it is... considering that my mother now gives me the cold, beyond any hope of redemption treatment.
Posted by: Mahjuja | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 02:48 PM
Raising my daughter, traveling with her,educating her was a lot of fun until she grew into a teenager.
Maybe it is about time I find her an asian replacement.
Posted by: fardel | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 03:26 PM
If my hubbie was the one throwing water melons from the roof top - I would think how childish and irresponsible. I'd stop him getting on the roof.
If my father was the one - I would think it was a cool thing to do..I would be right there beside him...let's see who can get the biggest explosion.
Daughters always understand thier fathers!!
Posted by: Nishat | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 04:12 PM
@sej, splattered watermelon reminds me of plane crashes. I need to meditate inside my lift.
@Mike, Bill Watterson grew up and gave up.
For tantrum I tell my child: do you want to press the emergency button in the lift?
Posted by: Lurker | Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 06:01 PM
It reminds me of birds, when the pelicans ,overflying my airport practice dropping on my collegues ( or myself) when we work on the ramp.
Posted by: fardel | Friday, 26 March 2010 at 02:34 AM
I totally agree with you Nury! I have two baby girls at home, one of which is 9-year old and the other 40-something. I am always having a hard time when both gang up on me. Like the saying goes, it's like between the devil and the deep blue sea!
Neat watermelon experiment. Now that's something to beat the Coke and Mentos explosion.
Posted by: Andrew | Friday, 26 March 2010 at 10:37 AM