I had fully intended on writing a cynical, grumpy post about my latest adventures. That is, until my daughter had to go ruin it and make it all sentimental.
Here’s what happened. My daughter, like any other six-year-old girl , is obsessed with the movie Frozen1. A few months ago, friends of ours – parents of my daughter’s best friend – asked if we would be interested in taking our daughter to Boston to see “Disney on Ice presents: Frozen.” At the time, it was months away. I bought tickets and kept it a surprise for her. I fully intended on hating every minute of it2. And to be honest, there were times when I thought I had a good argument for The Hague regarding “cruel and unusual punishment.”
It wasn’t until we got home after 9pm, carrying my sleeping daughter through the knee-high snow that I realized why went. It sounds obvious, but I went for her. She had a blast. Sure, I had to sacrifice my day (which most likely be spent sitting in front of a blinking cursor trying to come up with a new blog topic). Parents do strange things when it comes to our kids.
My mother would come home from work and cook dinner every night. And, although her version of PB&J was pumpernickel bread and mint jelly3, it was the thought that counts. Too often I try to fill my daughter’s day with activities that will benefit the both of us. Why not focus on what she wants to do? Maybe then she will be more inclined to return the favor and be polite and well-mannered in the grocery store4.
I know that is too much to ask. But at least it put a smile on a little girl's face.
1. And pretty much the rest of the world.↩
2. I mean, not one of the skaters fell!↩
3. In her defense, my siblings had drained her of most of her sanity by the time I came around.↩
4. Fat chance.↩