"They" Said It Would Happen

I do not want to write this particular blog post, but I suppose I must.  I'm afraid something is happening to me that I was not prepared for.  Before we begin, I would like to address this to the proverbial "they" who say "things" that involve everyday life.  I'm sure you are familiar with them.  You know, "They" say if you swallow chewing gum it will never digest.  "They" say when you floss your teeth you will have fewer cavities.  "They" say you should throw away leftover turkey after 2 days or you run the risk of food poisoning.  Yes, "they" are wise beyond their years.  Unfortunately for me, "they" also say that I would eventually start to grow up.

I'm not particularly happy about it but, apparently, I am becoming more mature.  Don't get me wrong, if someone laughs at the dinner table so hard that snorts fill the air, I will imitate the sound for the next five minutes!  Guaranteed!  When making our bed I will still arrange our stuffed animal mascots in compromising positions.  I still take great delight in doing things that make Sylvia say my name so that "Jeff" sounds like it has two syllables.  "Jeh-eff did you draw smiley faces on all the eggs?"  "Jeh-eff stop playing with the remote control fart machine?"  "Jeh-eff don't teach the kids that!"  Most of these types of things are followed by, "You goof."  It's kinda my thing.

Now, I am finding an area in my life that is completely foreign to me...and it is freaking me out!  The approaching date is merely coincidental.  I'm not one to pick New Year's Eve as the time to pause, reflect, and evaluate where I am going and then make a resolution about something I need to change.  To me, the new year is just an arbitrary date and if people wait until then to do all of the things they should, well, a lot of things won't happen during the year while waiting for the mythical January first.  What I am saying is that I did not "resolve" to change this attitude of mine.  And yet it's changing all the same.

It all started when I had a daughter.  I realize that I've had a daughter for many years.  I didn't say that I was growing up at blazing speed!  "They" just said it would happen eventually.  When Kristiana was old enough to talk and older than the "I'm gonna marry Daddy" phase.  She asked Sylvia and I, "When can I get married?"  My answer has always been, "Ten years after Daddy is gone, honey" or "When you are 132."  When she figured out that this was unrealistic on my part, she would say, "I'm going to go out on dates sometime you know."  I would tell her that I, of course, knew this.  I would then say that all of her dates would need to meet me and that I would be sitting at the kitchen table...cleaning my shotgun...seriously.

Well this has been the conversation for years...and now I am feeling an attitude shift.  I am not ready for dating and I am centuries away from considering walking her down the aisle, but lately there have been signals that make me think, "I may be ready for this...someday."

I have been blessed with a very smart daughter.  I have also been "blessed" (said through clenched teeth) with a strong willed daughter.  It makes for some difficult situations while growing up and the balance of power in the household, but Sylvia and I agree that being a strong adult will be a wonderful thing.  Very few people can "put one over" on her.  She has demonstrated time and again that her moral compass is stuck directly on North and she has a highly developed sense of right and wrong.  Perhaps this is why I am making an adaptation without needing to be institutionalized.

I would never want to embarrass anyone, ever, so I will try to tread lightly here.  The other day a young man figured out a clever way to get her phone number...and I didn't head for the weapons safe.  Another young man asked her to ice skate together when they were on a field trip...and they held hands.  I, the person who is growing up, did not dress in all camouflage and paint my face with green and black grease paint.  Boys call to talk to her on the phone...I do not start sharpening battle axes on the large spinning stone wheel we have in the garage.  She goes to Starbucks with a group of friends...some of whom are boys...and I do not follow them while wearing the ammunition belts, loaded with bullets, criss-crossed across my chest!  I think about it!...but I don't do it...anymore.  I think there is real progress happening here. 

Why just two days ago we all went to the mall, and while Jake and I were looking at the sporting goods store and talking to the manager about the pros and cons of crossbows versus pellet guns, Sylvia and Kristiana were trying on dresses...for prom!  I did not try to bite a barbell in half...and they were right within reach!  I tried to stall, I tried to stay in the sporting goods store long enough for them to need to find us rather than us having to go to the land of lace and ribbon. 

When Jake and I had boosted our testosterone levels to near neanderthal level we ventured out...grunting and scraping our knuckles on the ground.  We found the women-folk in a store that had seats outside the dressing rooms.  Speaking as a man, that's never a good sign.  And then Kristiana came out of the dressing room.  Let's just say, I can see why all of these young men are starting to hang around...and it's not because she had the good sense to pick a dress that was on sale, which she did.  What a beautiful young woman.  I did not lie on the ground in the fetal position and suck my thumb...for very long.

So while I am really not ready for all of this to start happening, I suppose it is going to happen whether I like it or not.  I am getting used to it slowly but surely...anyone like to purchase a couple of slightly used bullet filled criss-crossed belts?  "They" said I wouldn't need them anymore.