Gnat Gets Her Shots
James Lileks documents one more ordinary day of a loving father before the “bolt-cutter transitional day” of tomorrow. An excerpt:
Wednesday is our last day before school. We’ll go to the gardens we visit every year at summer’s end, where I shoot the video of her in the same place, binding the years together. She has no idea what this means to me. Just as well. Just another happy day with Dad; the fact that I release her to kindergarten in a day, and this feels like a great flaming bolt-cutter that severs tomorrow from all the wonderful yesterdays – well, of course she has no idea. In a sense, it’s nothing new. She’s done pre-school for the last two years. We’ve had dozens of transitions – the day the high-chair was replaced by a real chair, the day the inedible gorge-raising microwave mac n’ cheese in a nukable cup gave way to the real thing, the day she no longer laid on the floor and gurgled at fabric toys but stood up and tottered over to the bin to pick out something she wanted, the day she first said “I can do it” when I tried to help with the computer. All those moments come and go; every day is the alpha and omega. She still takes my hand when we walk down the stairs; she likes to do the Charleston to Paul Whiteman tunes; she still says “you can fix everything about computers” when I use SysAdmin privileges to boot into Classic mode so her game can run. She still casts a wishful eye at those whore-bot Bratz, but knows that both Dad and Mom disapprove, so they’re out. For now.
WARNING! Net Nanny violation toward the end of the piece.
