Tongue-In-Cheek … Foot-In-Mouth

So, there we were: my six-year-old daughter and me standing in the middle of our driveway with a deadly blood-sucking vampire bat, equipped with a fifty-foot wingspan, hovering, flapping, swooping, and dive-bombing overhead.  Sara, my daughter, stood in front of me with her head stuck so firmly pressed against my chest you would have thought my shirt was made out of industrial-strenght flypaper.

She watched the bat-vampire-monster thingy and began uttering such foolish things as, “He is only a little itty-bitty bat.  He won’t hurt us, right daddy?”

Brave daddy responded by bravely stating, “Nah, of course not, peanut.  (gulp) He’s nothing but a rat with wings.   Don’t worry kid-o, brave daddy’s here to protect (gulp) you.  HOWEVER, I was wonder WHO was here to protect ME, brave daddy.  GULP!

She chimed in with more foolishness.  “You’ll kill it if it tries to eat me, right brave daddy?”

While trying to pry her head off of my chest, I replied, “Of course (pry.)  You better (pry) believe it (pry) baby.  Not bat is going to make (pry) a tv-dinner out of my pookie-doo (PRY!)

Again, more foolishness from her.  “Thanks, Super Brave Daddy.”  Smile

“You are welcome, baby.”  Shiver

Between you, me, and the bloodbank, if my daugher had taken her eyes off of brave daddy for even a split nano-second I would have been in Cleavland.  This had a lot to do with the fact that every time the vampire bat got within a mile and a half of us, I would lift her up, and use her as a human shield.  So, deep down inside she knew that brave daddy was looking for a brave escape route, leaving her behind to be feasted apon by the rat-bat, while brave daddy beat a hasty brave retreat.  AND this is probably why she started acting chameleon-like, wherein she’d keep one eye firmlyh fixed on brave daddy, while the other eye scanned for the GIANT killer Dracula bat.

After about 30-minutes of bravely acting brave, and in a brave exhibition of truly remarkable unselfish bravery, I wrapped her, anaconda-like, around my exposed jugular vein and dashed screaming bravely towards the back door.  Luckily, thanks to gallonos of fear-induced testosterone pumped directly into my legs, we made it into the house without being sucked dry, and I managed to maintain my brave super daddy status.

Sadly, peanut is only going to be small for a short while longer, and will soon know the truth.  BUT even sadder, she just spotted a spider in the basement the size of a filing cabinet, and she wants me, brave super daddy to kill it.  SHIVER!

Seriously

Not for nothing, but just once, just one stinking (nasty word) time, I’d like to defend my daughter from something less dangerous.  BUGS and BATS!  I mean, it’s every minute with the teeth and the biting and the chewing and the blood and the pain with the hurting.  Just one (nastier word) time I wish she needed saving from something slightly less dangerous and BUGS and Brave Daddy Eating BATS.

EXAMPLE

“Oh my God, Sara!”

“What is it, supper brave daddy?”

“Look, over there, Sara!”

“Oooohh.  It’s so cute!  Come here, cutie-pie.  Ooooohhh.”

“Cute!?   Don’t call it over here!”

“But it is so tiny.”

“GET BACK!”

“And so yellow–”

“HIDE!”

“And such a fluff-ball.  Ooooohhhhhh.”

“RUN!”

“Oooooohhhh, and listen, it’s quacking.  (”Quack.”  “Quack.”  “Quack.”)  And look, there are four others walking in a cute yellow-fluff-ball line.  Ooooooh.”

“They are getting in attack formation.  RUNNNNNNNNN!”

“But–”

“Oh, no!”

“What is it now, daddy?”

“It might be too late, Sara.”

“What might be too late, daddy?”

“Look over there, more danger.”

“Ooooohhhhh, it’s so sweet.”

“Again with the cute and sweet.  It’s dangerous, I tell you, even more so than those deadly ducklings.”

“Look at the floppy ears, daddy.”

“Don’t touch it!  Get behind super daddy.”

“And it has BIG brown eyes.”

“The better to see you with.”

“And its tail is wagging.”

“That’s a dangerous aggressive pre-eat-the-six-year-old-daughter posture.”

“And now it’s licking my face.”

“It’s tasting you.  Run for the van.”

“But, but what about you;  what about you, oh, super brave daddy?”

“No worries, I will stand my ground and defend my little girl.”

“Oh, daddy.”

“I’ll stay right here and fight them off; I will fight them ALL off until I know that you, yes, you pookums, hae  reached the safety of the van.  Now, run pumpkin, RUN!”

“You are so brave.  You are my super brave daddy.”

“Forgettaboutit, Peanut.  It’s my job:  It’s Super Brave Daddy’s job.”

Copyright © 2010 Bill Drury.  All Rights Reserved.