It takes a confident man to let his little girl do his hair up nice and purdy in pink scrunchies and bows.
There is a great love that can exist between dads and daughters. The Greek term for parental love, storge, is when a daddy loves his child, simply because the child is his to provide for and protect.
I was blessed to grow up with a daddy who loved his girls. He didn’t have sons but we never heard him complain. Instead, my dad took us under his wing and taught us all of the things we needed to know and then some.
How to wash a car.
How to ride a horse.
How to shoot a gun.
How to do a proper pedi. (OK- maybe mom taught this but daddy let us practice on him.)
How a man should treat a lady.
When I was growing up, the daddy/daughter date thing wasn’t a thing but my dad kind of did that anyway. Not in the suits/dresses/corsages sense but in the, “Come on, let’s go muddin’ ” sense. Or, “Come on, you need to learn how to field dress this deer.”
I had plenty of quality, one-on-one time with Daddy’O and I assume my sisters did also. I remember him letting me drive. I was too little to reach the gas pedal so I sat in his lap and steered the car. Sometimes, I’d sit in the passenger seat and shift gears for him. Then, when I was about twelve or thirteen, he’d turn onto the dirt road and we’d switch seats. Yeah baby, I was a driving fool. I could reach the pedals by then.
I always felt a little sorry for my dad living in a house with four females. There was that week out of every month when he disappeared for a few days. We always thought he was hunting, but in retrospect, he was probably hiding out with a sixer of his favorite imported beverage until the hormones cleared.
Our dad was dutiful and proud of his girls. He went to every football game where we cheered and twirled, every beauty pageant, and every dance recital. Not only did he attend the events that would make most men gouge their eyes out, he recorded most of them with one of those twenty pound video recording devices that were popular in the eighties and nineties. Just last week, he sent me a newspaper where my baby sister was on the front page. He’s still proud of his girls.
My sisters and I are blessed to have our daddy caddy. Not only do we have a loving man who will give you the shirt off his back if you need it, but we got his long eyelashes, full lips, and shapely legs.
Since we are celebrating love this February, I want to give a shout out to my daddy love and all of the other loving dads who are teaching their girls that real men can wear pink.
Do you have any “men in pink” or daddy stories you want to share? I’d love to hear from you.