Young Love

One of the things about being a guy who coaches a predominantly girls’ sport is that you end up being kind of a father-figure. At least I hope I do. One former cheerleader went so far as to ask my wife and I to be her godparents once. Last week another former cheerleader introduced me to her college roommate as her “mentor.”

One of the things about being a father-figure is having to patiently listen to things that would probably make most real fathers cringe and then gently dispensing empathy, advice or admonishment in appropriate doses.

Case in point; over the course of several months, one former athlete kept me updated on her life via email. Essentially, it was like watching the old ‘50s/early ‘60s TV show, “The many Loves of Dobby Gillis,” except that she’s a girl.

She went through a plethora of boys. There was the cowboy, the manipulative control freak, the musician, the bad boy, the other girl’s boyfriend, the Boy Scout, and the really cute nice guy who they both knew it wouldn’t last and didn’t, and the chauvinist pig.

Finally it ended with “the one.” Of course, I’m not her real dad, and many people thought that I got married too young, but I still cringed. Then, I proceeded to dispense the appropriate amounts of empathy, advice and admonishment. Immediately afterward, I was thanking God that I didn’t have to worry about such things as a REAL dad for at least another 15 years (20 or 30 if I get my way). But alas, it was not to be.

I was sitting on Grace’s bed reading a book while she took her bath next door when her younger sister Ellie called to me from her room across the hall.

“Da-aad?”

“In here kiddo.”

“Yeah, but um, I have to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, so come in here and talk.”

“Yeah, but, um, it’s something vewy imp-O-tant.”

“Okay…” How serious can anything a three-year-old has to talk about be? I thought as I tried to quickly finish up my chapter.

She sauntered into the room and sat down next to me, folded her hands in her lap and let out a long sigh.

“What is it honey? Is everything Okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s just that I wuv Bwaden SO MUCH?”

Braden is her older cousin from Topeka. Braden is a Freshman in high school and an awesome kid. He and his older brother Cale have always been incredibly kind, patient and fun with all our girls, but obviously, he’s a little bit old for her. Not to mention the whole never –marry-your-cousin thing. But I wasn’t sure my preschooler was ready for a discussion about the legality or icky-ness of that whole scenario, so I decided to just listen empathetically.

“He is a pretty good guy huh?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking up with the most dramatic eyebrows she could muster, “but I just don’t know… I love him SO much, but I just miss him. I won’t get to see him for two weeks!” she sighed, exasperated.

“And…and. I just,” she looked down at the floor and shook her head in dismay. “Maybe sum day when we’re both teen-angels we can go to the same college.”

At that point, I probably should’ve pointed out that Braden already is a teenager, but just as I was about to speak she told me more, “And we will get mare-weed and wive in Sioux Falls. “The next morning when I drove her to the babysitter, she told me that she’d changed her mind, they’d live in Topeka, “but it’s so far away!”

Later, on the stairs, after Grace was in her pajamas too, Ellie informed Grace that “you can be our neighbors in To-PEEK-ah.”

“Da-aad!” Grace started to tattle, “Ewen said I half to be her ney-BOHR!”

“It’s Okay, homey, when you grow up you can live anywhere you want to, she just loves you so much that she want to stay close.”

So it may be a couple of weeks instead of a couple of decades, but I’m already planning on asking a young man what his intentions are with my daughter. I’m practicing sounding intimidating.