Daddy Daughter Day

I’m not one for amusement parks. Well, I like roller coasters. And the log ride. But I hate anything that fits a person and spins. And crowds/lines… ugh. I’d rather run a 10K on the sun.

For better or worse, I have somehow passed a bit of this on to my daughter.

“I don’t want to go to Six Flags,” declared Nola at breakfast.

“Really,” said Pam putting the final touches on her lunch. “Aren’t you going tomorrow with your whole 8th grade class?”

“Yeah, but I hate waiting in line. I absolutely hate it.”

“Same,” I said from across the room. “Strong same.”

“Then we can have a daddy daughter date,” said Nola whipping her head toward me.

“Ok,” I said figuring these were just random sounds coming out of her mouth and that she’d still end up going to Six Flags with her friends.

But no. It stuck. Because the next day…

“Are we having a daddy daughter day today, Daddy,” she asked in her sing song way at breakfast.

“Yes,” I said instinctively. “Duh,” I added also with instinct.

“Because I made an itinerary.”