Oh Boy

I rarely go into greeting card stores, preferring instead to use a selection I keep on hand of interesting art cards, etc. But yesterday, on my way to meet a friend for a movie, I passed one and - today being my dad's birthday - I thought I'd get something more birthday oriented... oh, plus they were having a ridiculously wonderful sale on dark chocolate Lindt Lindor balls. Heh heh.

Well, there certainly is a lot of crap for sale out there. I stood at the "Birthday - Dad" section for a while, in full scoff mode. What mawkish sentiment! What hopeless drivel!! My dad doesn't sail or golf, so that ruled out 95% of the cards. I considered the irony of a card featuring animal depictions of dads and daughters (hey Pop - this species doesn't eat its young either!). Then I ruled out the fuzzy photographs and autumnal oil paintings (hello, it's January 4!). Then I saw one that bore just a sweet photograph of a fairly generic little girl. I opened it up and started reading the sentiment, my lip already curling in disdain at the word "princess".

Because I had a dad like you,
I always knew that princesses
didn't have to be all dresses and bows.

I knew,
because no matter how tousled my hair
or how muddy my shoes,
a princess is what you made me feel like...
And that's how it still feels
being your daughter.

... then... Reader, I teared up! Reader, I bought that card!

I've never felt like a princess, although I've always wanted a tiara. As a kid my socks were always falling down and I had bits of twigs and leaves and lint in my hair and my hair bows always fell out. It's been a downhill decline since then. But my dad loves me anyway and I love him.

Happy Birthday Pop!