Dad Entry #76

Sometimes when Michael gives Megan a command like, "Pick up your mess, Megan," or "You need a jacket, Megan," she will say, "You know Michael, you're not the daddy." Michael backs off but I'm generally puzzled and speechless for a moment when Megan says this - even though I've heard it before - because, maybe, it still has to sink in, maybe I'm still incredulous despite seven years of parenting already; it takes a moment for me to realize I'm involved, she's referring to me, I am the daddy. That's right, I'm the daddy! I'm in charge! I'm kidding. But not entirely. When Megan name-drops "the daddy", invoking my power in a way to defend herself, a little pride flickers inside me, but also a spot of humility, and why not some anxiety too for good measure; this is a big job after all, being 'the daddy' - and it's yours, it's your job, I'm thinking - and then I have an opportunity to do the job, because it's true, Michael is correct as usual, Megan really does need to pick up her mess or put on her jacket, but I'm lost in an introspective fog, I'm overwhelmed a little, super-grateful, amused but also in awe at this obvious, undeniable, unquestionable (until they're teenagers or sooner) authority that's been bestowed upon me and is acknowledged by my subjects as fact and law in debates between them. By the time I depart "Planet Dan" - that's what my family calls it anyway - Megan has already picked up her mess or put on her jacket. Because she's a good girl. And because, yes, I'm "the daddy" and Megan knows those commands are supposed to come from me - she is precisely characterizing them that way in her response to Michael - and she knows they will come from me shortly. She just doesn't like to take orders from Michael.

Megan showed me how to take makeup off of her face tonight. She doesn't wear it often - either via Sara or her own hand (it's pretty easy to tell the difference) - but she had some on tonight. We used a clear solution from a smallish bottle and Q-tips. It was Sara's makeup remover. I was worried about getting the mystery cleaner in Megan's eyes but I trusted she knew what to do and she did. Truly I had no idea which stuff to use. Not only do men never read directions, we never read labels either. Megan excitedly told me and showed me how to do it. I cleaned her eyelids while she closed her eyes. I wiped her pursed lips. I nearly passed out from adoration. Although, she's too young for makeup, right? Yeah, nevermind, I'm pissed-off! Not really. It's a treat she doesn't get very often. She enjoys it; she loves to go all princess on us. If it reaches Lady Gaga proportions, then we'll shut it down completely for awhile. Meat dress?! Are you kidding me?!