His face was a picture; one that blended paternal pride and prescient panic with that fearful uncertainty common to fathers of daughters everywhere.
“She’s going on a date…”
“I’m just going out to dinner,” said the blonde bombshell, rolling cornflower-blue eyes and sighing.
“…with a boy.”
I was finding it hard to keep a straight face. It was one of those moments that was always going to happen, sooner or later. Especially when both your daughters are beautiful and vivacious blondes. The old saying flitted across my mind, that one of the joys of growing older is watching your children have teenagers of their own. I was suddenly thankful I’d only had sons to worry about.
But, even though I was holding back the laughter, I could understand the fatherly chagrin. This was happening, after all, just a little sooner than my son had been expecting…
I later heard that the dinner date had gone well. Her escort had behaved impeccably, telling her she looked beautiful when she arrived at the restaurant, opening doors for her and generally treating her like a princess.
All under the watchful eyes of the two mothers who had made the gentlemanly invitation become a reality.
My granddaughter is, after all, only five.
Ghosts of tomorrow
Shadows cast as rose petals
The future beckons