I prefaced it. "You can pick any place you want, anyplace!"
Her response was priceless. "Any place? I'll pick KFC!" What should I have expected, she is eight. After some prodding on my part, she upgraded to Applebees.
As we sat in the restaurant, I told her she could order what every she wanted. She decided on a strawberry smoothy and cheese pizza….at Applebees.
She is eight.
I have to tell you by the time her cheese pizza showed up I had butterflies. I was nervous. I would be at an elementary school dance, trying to prove to the princess that I still had a grasp on cool.
Before dinner was done, the Hostess approached the table. With pink rose and a matching pink envelope in hand, he announced, "This just arrived for you. Are you the Princess?"
Wide eyed, she was figuring it out. A rose/card tandem had arrived. (Daddy had mommy and little brother drop it off for a sneaky delivery.) Before she could respond, I told her this was a special gift from daddy. I read the letter to her. I cried. She smiled.
A few minutes later we arrived at the dance.
Already emotional, I stumbled in. Little girls and dads lined the outside of the dance floor. No one wanted to get the party started. We mingled and I swapped awkward smiles with some dads. Our faces each asked the same question, "Are you going to go out their first."
Before we could respond and answer, one dad took the floor with his princess. He didn't look like a hip dad. His black dress pants were pulled high. The white socks clashed with the brown loafers. I don't think his tie matched. But he danced. My daughter and I just sat and watched.
His smile lit up the room. No one probably noticed that he was cabbage patching, doing the running man, or the sprinkler man. No one cared. His daughter looked up to him and smiled and laughed. Her laughter brought the room to slow motion. We were all there for the same reason; to make an impact on the little girl that was courageous enough to ask us to attend. As dads, we did it.
We danced. We giggled. We Limbo'd. We Hokie Pokied. We did the Chicken Dance. We sang.
At this moment, I looked around and saw more awkward dads.
All a little apprehensive.
All a little anxious.
All a hero to their princess.
Jharp
