The past Sunday was Sara’s Girl Scout Father/Daughter Dance. It was quite sweet. Sara was so excited and, I’ll have to admit, so was I.
After we got there and were in the presence of several hundred other Father/Daughter pairs, I’ll have to admit being a little creeped out. There was something just a little too Electra complex about the whole thing. After we got home, I had to make sure Sara wasn’t stalking Jill with a butcher knife, large blunt object or something for a few hours before I felt calm about everything.
Fortunately for all concerned, no post-dance Mother/Daughter violence occurred. In fact, Sara was completely thrilled to share all the details of the event with Jill including, down to the socks and underwear, what each and every one of her friends wore. They were, by the way, all quite beautiful.
Then, there’s the whole specter of the Chastity Ceremony so many wacky families are participating in these days. I was expecting, at some point, there to be an announcement that it was time for the Father/Daughter pairs to exchange the commitment vows.
Evidently in these perverse events--I will not mince words over my perspective on this bizarre, paranoid, and insane practice-- the little girls must make a vow to remain “pure” and “faithful” to Daddy and Jesus until Prince Charming comes along to make her the perfect little Stepford Wife style housewife. In exchange, she gets a ring or some other kind of jewelry.
Consider how much more discombobulating the event was to me when I discovered some of the Fathers actually dressed as Prince Charming.
Now, I should have prefaced all this by saying, I am insane and all these things are horrid delusions. Not all of them, Chastity Ceremonies do, in fact, exist and are, in fact, creepy and perverse.
This event was not one of those. It was just a nice little sweet afternoon I got to spend with my beautiful Daughter, and her friends.
It was quite a splendid and special time.
Kelly @ 12:10 |
10 Mar 2007
I was sick Tuesday and had the house all to myself for almost the whole day. It was, perhaps, the longest I've been alone in the house since February 13, 1998 when Carter, Sara, and Zane were born.
It was also quite frightening.
The silence I've so frequently longed for was so weird and disorienting. It felt like something was horribly wrong and I was getting ready to get into trouble for having left the kids somewhere.
I've done that before.
A few years ago, I got home with Jesse from the middle school choir rehearsal I was directing at the time only to find out that I'd left the other three at church.
I received a call from the Kid's choir director about the time I walked in the door inquiring if I had forgotten something. I thought for a minute and said, "I don't think so." He mentioned that C, S, & Z were still at the church, and I said, "What's your point?"