Dawson Times

Out of five children, I only have one girl.  She is the reason that I’m not stark raving mad. Of all the humanoids living with me, she’s the only one who doesn’t act like an animal.

While her brothers are busy laughing about some joke that had something to do with a bodily function, my daughter is trying to dress my cat in a tutu.  She says that the cat is a girl too, and she should dress like one.

Her brothers find great pleasure in trapping insects and throwing them into spider webs.  My daughter brings creepy crawlies into the house and make a bed for them out of her Polly Pocket furniture.  She says that she doesn’t want them to get too cold outside.

While her brother practices his drum, pounding away at his practice pad like a demented caveman, my daughter sits at her keyboard and tries to produce a song that fairies can dance to.  She says it has to be soft and beautiful so the fairies won’t be afraid.

The boys think it’s cool to wear jeans and tee shirts that say something like “Pull My Finger!”  My daughter has nothing but pastels and sparkling things in her drawers.  Her favorite shirt has two little girls holding hands, and embroidered above them are the words “Best Friends”.  She says that those two little girls are her and a friend she hasn’t seen in over a year.

When the boys play, it always involves some form of chaos: An earthquake, a tsunami, a war, an alien invasion.  My daughter will be in her bedroom “feeding” her baby dolls.  She’ll eventually tell the boys to be quiet because the “baby” needs to take a nap.

The boys ignore her, of course. The only person in the house that realizes the importance of her “baby” needing a nap is me.  So I come to her rescue and allow her to use my bedroom for her baby’s nap.

Somehow she recognizes that even her daddy wouldn’t understand because, after all, he is a male, too.  He’s simply a taller one.  So, if he came in the room where the “baby” was sleeping, she’d wave him away with a finger to her lips.

This little lady has to contend with the boys forgetting to lift the lid or flush the toilet. She has to deal with the repetitive noises that flow constantly from her brother’s lips and the condescending tone they use with her as if she’s the stupid one.

No matter how many times her brothers burp in her face, spit watermelon seeds in her hair, use her ribbons for fishing lures, or put their rusty bottle cap collection in her new purse, she seems to take it in stride.  Of course, if they get too bad, she has a pretty spectacular left hook, too.  I never said she was a pushover.

Truly, I could take lessons in patience from my daughter because she handles it all very well.  But, you know, she has always been fond of animals.

Laura Snyder

You can reach Laura at lsnyder@lauraonlife.com Or visit her website www.lauraonlife.com for more columns and info about her new book.