This post is pure daddy blog drivel. It’s the type of thing I pass over if I’m behind in my Google Reader. I provide it for my distant siblings who live hundreds of miles away and don’t get to see their nieces very often. Feel free to read on and comment, but you’ve been warned.
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The Daughters are a classic exercise in extremes. 8-Year Old is sensitive. Almost too much so. She’ll apologize for things that have nothing to do with her. She picks up after her sister to avoid seeing her disciplined. She worries. Her heart will be broken 1,000 times.
On the other hand, 4-Year Old is utterly remorseless. She’ll commit the same wrong over and over again. She’ll apologize, but with a big smile on her face that makes you question her sincerity. Sometimes, she lies. She’ll break hearts without regret.
How do I get their temperaments to meet in the middle? Is there a magic pill?
Weekend afternoons with 8-Year Old Daughter have given way to afternoons with 4-Year Old Daughter. She likes to visit the botanical garden near our home. The land was once owned by Vito Genovese, one of New York’s crime family bosses. New Jersey busted his ass, took his property (beautiful gardens and rolling hills) and turned it into public domain.
Here, she confronts the half man/half demon-beast scarecrow. She asked me to pick her up so she could touch his pointy teeth and see what they feel like. This is the type of thing that would have given 8-Year Old nightmares when she was her age.
Near the entrance is a topiary caterpillar. I point it out to her. She walks up…
…and, of course, puts her head in its mouth. I could get all metaphorical about her disregard for danger but that would just cause me to lose sleep at night.
We always bring a bit of bread so she can feed the goldfish in the pond. It’s a constant struggle to keep her from fall in. Imagine me bringing her home covered in pond muck! Boy, would I be in the dog house!
Our afternoons end as they always have. As they always will. At the diner.