Daddy's Little Girl

I always hated that song. When I was in a band, and we played the big South Philly serenades or weddings, "Daddy's Little Girl" was always on the request list. Watching those squat, balding fathers-of-the-bride dance with their big-haired, over-made-up daughters, while their bouffant-headed mothers and grandmothers cried on the sideline was just all too much to stand. How sappy and annoying, I thought. "You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold...The star on my tree..." Oh, give me a break.

Then, I had a daughter.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Yes! I get it! A precious gem! The pot of gold! Sugar! Spice! Everything nice!

Now, she's turning nine. And she is still my little princess. She's still the Cinderella-watching, ringlet-haired, wide-eyed angel. Even if Cinderella has been replaced by Hannah Montana, ringlets are now waves, and wide-eyes are, well, still wide-eyes. Of course, she always will be my little princess. Just as I know I will always count my son as one of my best friends, or my couch as a good place for my butt.

I know that my mission in life is to protect her, to show her what a good man is and what a decent man should be to her. And despite being divorced from her mom, I want her to know the importance of responsibility, love, devotion and most of all, respect.

When she puts her hand in mine - something I know she won't want to do too much longer - I feel like she is putting her complete trust in me. That her daddy won't ever let anything bad happen to her. That I'm her protector, her hero, even, at times, her big huggable teddy bear.

Sure, there are the assorted bonds between parent and child. The mother/son bond, the mother/daughter, father/son, Michael Jackson/spawn of some twisted union bond. But this bond between father and daughter is probably stranger, more difficult, more heartwrenching and more amazing than all of them. Why? I think it's because fathers see their daughters as forever innocent, a girl who will someday be a woman, yet always a little girl. And as men, we know exactly how guys think. And never, ever should a guy think that way about our little girls. As men, we look to be that protector of women, that hero in their eyes. It's even moreso with our daughters. No man should ever match the strength and sanctity of The Daddy. And even when they are married and pregnant, we still don't want to think of them as ever being touched by a man.

Having a son and daughter will be difficult enough with the double standards that exist. I don't want to be the dad who's high-fiving his son if he scores with a girl, but locking his daughter in a closet until she's 30. So now is the time that I'm trying to teach her what to look for in a man. A man who respects women, is kind and gentle and funny. I want her to someday say, "I want a man like my dad." That would be the ultimate compliment. Of course, with all the stuff I put the family through in the past (See: divorce; satanic second wife), I hope I can make amends and be that hero in her eyes.

Last night, for her birthday, we had a father/daughter birthday date, as we've been doing for the last several years. I take her to a nice restaurant where the waitstaff sings opera and the napkins are linen. She acts like such a refined little lady, folding her hands and thanking the people around her for their compliments and birthday wishes. I asked her if she thought we'd still be doing this when she's older. She said, "Of course, but, like, when I'm a teenager, I'll be talking about who I'm dating and all." Oh. My. God.

The ultimate realization that my baby isn't such a baby anymore came last night when she put her hands on the table, looked right at me and said, "So, dad, tell me what's going on in your life."

My little girl is definitely growing up and it's scary and wonderful at the same time. And even when she decides she's too "big" to hold my hand, or too "old" to call me daddy and would rather just go with 'dad' instead, she'll always be the "end of the rainbow, my pot of gold."

I totally get the lyrics now. I just wish I liked the damn song. But hopefully, I'll have many years to pick out a different one for our father/daughter dance at her wedding. Where I'll be the squat, balding father, and she won't need to be wearing too much make-up to be the most beautiful girl ever in my life.