One day when I was seven, my step-dad and I were on the roof of our house, working on the swamp-cooler. As we were getting down I had a moment of fear and said, "Bobby, I'm scared." The ensuing life-lesson I got was sufficient enough for me to believe that everyone should think about fear the same way as my step-dad; "There's only three things you need to be afraid of: God, the Devil, and dying. Now jump!". To this day, I still have a momentary flash of "Oh shit, I'm going to die!" when getting off of a roof.
Flash forward 31 years to yesterday. Audrey and I were playing with a toy that Jen had purchased as a prize for a Thanksgiving Bingo game (this was for the entertainment of the kids while at my in-laws house, we'll talk more about that during a different post). While I was showing Audrey how to shoot foam rockets off of her finger, she said, "But Diddy, I'm scared. It might hurt me". ...AND FREEZE TIME... I think back to my childhood and wonder what my dad would do ...UNFREEZE TIME... I was wondering what the hell there is to be scared of. Its a foam rocket, with a rubber band launcher. So I threw the rocket at Audrey's chest in an attempt to show her that it won't hurt, to whit she replied "OW, THAT HURTS!! STOP IT!!" ...AND FREEZE TIME... Apparently my dad's "sage" counsel of there's nothing you need to be afraid, EVER wasn't quite what Audrey needed at this particular moment ...UNFREEZE TIME... So, having failed to show Audrey that the rocket "can't" hurt her, I take the extra time needed to show her exactly how to shoot the rocket across the room. Hilarity ensues.
All is now right in the universe. However, a bewildered dad is left to wonder just what kind of emotional scars he has just inflicted on his 6 year old daughter.
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