There’s a mistake dads make, and I see it all the time.
Namely, they don’t go all in with their daughters.
I’m not saying I’m the world’s best father. I’m certainly not. But from the time my daughter was born, I committed myself to not being the father who refuses to do certain things. So, over the past 11 years, I’ve had my toenails and fingernails painted hundreds of times. I’ve had lipstick and blush applied to my face. I’ve played house and school and dolls over and over and over again. I’ve been to the ballet, to the American Girl store, the tea party shop, to … everywhere pink and girly one can imagine.
And I’ve loved it.
Loved it.
Loved it.
Loved it.
I don’t buy into machismo, and I can’t stand men who need to have boys. Yeah, I love playing catch with my son in the street; attending his sporting events; playing Madden. They’re familiar thrills from my own childhood. But having a girl (one who, in this case, cares nary a spit about sports) is equally great and adventurous. My daughter and I talk about things I’ve never even thought about—growing up a girl, the pressures she faces in middle school, etc. I used to try to get her to watch football, but she didn’t care. So I decided not to care, either.
Anyhow, just thought I’d share.
