Rough Stone Rolling

To this day, I don’t know what constitutes “reindeer games.”

However, the Daddy Games are in full swing– nay– they are in EXTREME swing these days as I’m finding all of these wonderful buttons on my 12-year old girl.

As Miss D. embarks on her hormonal teenage hell ride– and takes us with her at metaphorical gunpoint– I’ve been finding new, exciting ways to torment her right back. I believe all fathers should make the most of these years, for there will come a time when the shelf life of such happy, petty torments will be past due and the progeny will become impervious to their effects. They have to know that their chemical imbalances don’t give them carte blanche to repeatedly run over us without the possibility of retribution. And so, here are a few examples of how I keep balance in my patriarchal universe:

Threats of Mortification:

Nothing matches the currency of coolness in a preteen and teen’s world. They have to posture their independence and sophistication around peers at any and all costs. So imagine the leverage a father posseses when, as he drops his little girl off to school, he suggests that he might call out, “Yoohoo, sweetie!” and blow repeated, audible two-finger kisses at her as she walks away through the crowd. The agony and supplication he gets in return are a sweet reward after putting up with the attitude she copped on the way over there.

Boys:

When I was in the 9th grade at Evergreen Junior High and just getting into the dating scene, my dad proved to be the Marquis de Sade of mortifiers. I’d be on the phone with Pam (my first sort-of girlfriend), talking about the upcoming dance, feeling awkward and intense, and Dad would pick up from another room:

“David, aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

“Gnaa– um, Dad, this is Pam. Pam, Dad.”

(Pam) “Uh, (giggle) , hi…”

“Well, Hel-LO, Pam. You have a sexy voice.”

” (giggle) ”

“DAD!! GET OFF!!”

Now, while I’d never do something like that to Miss D– besides the fact that saying such a thing to a boy could get you arrested these days– but the mere threat of it is enough to fuel the jollies:

“So, who are you going to Magic Mountain with tomorrow?”

“Just Sabrina, Kalen, Eunice and… Trevor.”

“Trevor? Who’s Trevor?”

“He’s just a guy. You know, just a friend.”

“Do you like him?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, but not like like, y’know? But I kinda think he might like me that way.”

“Well, maybe I should talk to him.”

“No, Dad.”

“Yeah. I think I need to set him straight. I’ll go with you so he and I can have a talk, and then I’ll just hang around to keep an eye on you.”

“NOOO!!!”

The funny thing is, she knows I’d never do anything like that in a million, but just the mere mention of it easily sends her into tailspins of horror.

The Daddy Public Display of Uncoolness

When it came to dances, I had one move and one move only; what Billy Crystal refers to as the “White Man’s Overbite.” And any time there’s a great song playing and I’m feeling spunky, I might break into a little WMO around the house, causing my daughter to yell at me to STOP IT! Unfortunately for her, this inadvertantly armed me with new, fearsome ammo and I may, from time to time, commence to “get down” in the car or grocery store when she’s with me. This gets the same response as, say, realizing one left the baby’s car seat back in the parking lot, and pays off nicely. There are actually tons of publicly mortifying things you can do around your kids and they should be exercised liberally.

Just Being Annoying

Here’s a good recent example: Miss D finally saw “Wall-E” in school after vowing she’d never, ever see it if she could help it. As I’m driving her in the car, she begrudgingly admits she liked it– in a tone that says, “don’t even attempt to tease me about this.” So we’re riding along in silence for a minute, and then I say,

“You know, if ‘Wall-E’ were made in India, it would have been called ‘Boll-Eee.’”

Silence.

“If it were a Christmas movie, it might have been called ‘Holl-Eeee.’”

“Dad.”

Silence.

“If he got a dog it could have been ‘Coll-Eeeee.’”

“Dad!”

Silence.

“If he went to China to save the dolphins it might be “Soll-E Choll-Eeeeee.’”

“DAD!! Shut- UP!!”

Silence.

And so on.

Years from now, after a lot of therapy, she’ll look back on these days nostalgically. I know I do, minutes after they happen.