I have three daughters, each very different
But oh so close, as I have discovered
There is not a thing I could do or say
That they don’t communicate to each other.
I was like every father, protective and wary of predators, mainly every boy who looked at them for I know a little of what boys are thinking
Their over active minds imaginations running wild,
I was one once you know.
So there was not much they could put over me.
My daughters on the other hand were expert at conning me
And doing it with panache.
So good were they, they had me eating out of their hands when all the while I believed they were eating out of mine
When in fact it was more like
Eating out of my pocket.
But the thing that marks my daughters from others
In my humble opinion is that they are mine
I am responsible for them
I am responsible for making them into reasonable human beings.
I think overall I did.
As they age I realise how little control I actually had.
It was them making all the moves
My attempts to curb my daughter’s sexual appetites only fuelled them
For after all what does one’s parent know about sex anyway?
I contemplated them all wearing oneses, but they wouldn’t come at that,
Suggested venues they might frequent, they looked at me as if I was alien
I suggested people they might like to know, they turned their noses up
Then I hit on a brain wave, unusual I know for me.
I decided wisely as it turned out
Be with them not against them.
This meant I have been with them through all their varying stages of becoming people,
People they are proud to be.
They aren’t always going to be who you want, do what you want,
After all they are people, just like me and you.
Just female versions and their mother being their mother did worry me
As to which of her traits rubbed off on them.
As they are all older now we do sit back and reminisce about our pasts.
Their respective partners each raise eyebrows when certain things are said
Where you do learn that?
I wonder where you learnt to speak that way?
You sound so much like…….’no I don’t, I’m not like…..’
But the beauty of daughters is they find a place in their lives for their father.
You may not be perfect as a dad, but your daughters love you and need you in their lives.
Mine need me. They borrow money, from time to time, need a baby sitter,
A shoulder to cry on, an ear to vent into, my support, my love, me.
That’s my experience with daughters, I love mine
They are each amazing women in their own right
They never cease surprising me.
They are mothers themselves now,
Good mothers I must add, loving, caring
Nurturing, guiding their children
Giving them space to be who they are and who they might be.
I feel very proud of my girls
I think I did the best I could
Being very young, naïve and idealistic at the time,
But I am their dad and we love each other.
I think I did something right.
Morpethroad 