Lions And Tigers And Patent Leather Flats

Okay:

So, my mother took my daughter to the Universoul Circus on Saturday.

"Every white person should see this thing," she said. "It's so tacky and black."

Not to be outdone by the doting grandmother, I decided to take my daughter to the zoo on Sunday. I had this marvelous day all planned out. We would take pictures and then come home and create a photo journal. She could write captions about the animals and help me put everything together in Photoshop. It was going to be great. She was going to love it. A lot more than that silly old circus.

But things didn't go exactly as I had planned.

"Can we also go to the playground, daddy?"

"Sure thing, honey. After the zoo."

Then she and her grandmother went upstairs to get all frilled up. When they came back downstairs, she looked like she was going to a play or something, or some kind of outing. Gorgeous. I wondered if I had missed something.

"Those shoes aren't going to work," I said. It wasn't until after I said it that I realized how pleased she was with herself. Her face dropped. "I mean, you look fantastic, but we're going to be doing a lot of walking and those shoes are going to be a problem."

She was crushed.

"Your father's right," my mother said. "Let's go see what else we can put on."

She stomped back up the stairs slowly and stopped midway to give me an over-the-shoulder-pitiful pout before she rounded the corner.

This is her signature move.

I am impervious. But no one else seems to be. She is pretty good though.

After ten minutes of waiting, I got impatient. How long does it take to change shoes?

"What's going on up there?" I shouted.

Then my mother came walking down the stairs...without my daughter.

"She said she doesn't want to change her shoes. The other shoes won't match with her outfit."

"What?" I shouted incredulously. I yelled up the stairs. "Get your butt in your room and change your shoes. You don't get to tell anyone what you're not going to do around here. This isn't a democracy. It's a dictatorship!"

Two minutes later my daughter came downstairs in a pair of crocks.

"Those are fine for walking, honey," I said. "But you're going to have to wear sneakers if you want to go to the playground later."

For some reason I was really concerned about the security of loosely fitting plastic sandals on a metal jungle gym with ropes and monkey bars and bridges and all sorts of lovely things to trip up on. In one way, it seems silly. In another way, it seems totally reasonable.

"Well, I don't think I want to go to the playground then."

I was shocked. Suddenly, I was staring at a little woman. Two years ago I could have dressed her in a burlap sack and she wouldn't have given two shits. Now she was putting fashion ahead of recess.

"That's ridiculous," I said.

"Daddy," she wined, "My sneakers don't match with this outfit. The colors are all wrong."

There was some crying involved, but eventually, she put the damn sneakers on.

My mother warned me against being too strict and forceful. I warned her against being too accommodating.

And low and behold, by the time we got to the zoo, she didn't give a shit anymore. And all was well again.

Kids.

The most disturbing part, I suppose, was how quickly she got over the animals. After a few lions and tigers, she was ready to go.

"You wanna go to The Ape House, honey?"

"I don't care."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I want a smoothie and a souvenir."

"What kind of souvenir?"

"A stuffed panda."

"Deal."


So, we went to the gift shop. I found the panda section and called to her, but she had been distracted by something more appealing.

A goddamn giraffe purse.

"But we didn't even see any giraffe's today?"

"I know. But it's a purse though. See?"


I suppose this is what I get for being such a horn dog all these years. God has a wicked sense of humor.


Thanks for reading.

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Innocent Question: My daughter is 7 and wants to get her ears pierced. I am of the opinion that she is way too young to be altering her body. And I think it's part of this whole "little woman" thing, which I think can become dangerous if not kept in check. The women in my family think I'm nuts and my daughter thinks I'm an asshole. Suggestions?