DADDY HELP ME

There comes a time in every fathers life where he has the opportunity to show their child or children that, along with being a provider they are their security and protection, literally. You know, their superhero in real life. My day came a few days ago. I was faced with impossible odds and had to show my daughter that daddy is alway ready and has her back. It was a defining moment in our father - daughter relationship, a moment that I’m sure neither of us will ever forget. Albeit, for very different reasons.

The “incident,” as I have been referring to it, happened a few Saturdays ago. Saturday mornings are always the same for us: Eat cereal, watch Blippi, and play. All morning long. This particular Saturday started off no different, with her dancing on my back to wake me up. I peeled myself out of the bed and carried up both to the kitchen, and set her up for breakfast. While she started off her bowl of Froot Loops, which she calls “that one,” I take the trash out back. Little did I know it would be the simple act of taking the trash out that would change our relationship forever.

After some cereal and fruit we marched back upstairs full of energy. I cut the Tv on and began to pull out her favorite toys. The blocks, the alphabet train, her Build-a-bear Unicorn, anything that I know she will definitely play with. I take a seat in the middle of the floor as she goes full Jack Jack all over the place. I like to let her go full tilt on Saturdays, because the harder she goes the more she wipes out for her noon nap, she’ll fall asleep during lunch with luck.

The morning went along without a hitch, she played with just about every toy in her toy box. If you have a toddler you know know that I am not even exaggerating, for some odd reason the only way they can function with one toy is if all of them are emptied onto the floor. My baby was on full go. So much so, that I had to take a break, and just let her have her little fun. I set off to the side on the floor, and got on my phone. So I’m either scrolling some social media or watching a video of something and my baby shrieks like I have never heard before.

Tears in her eyes, and her face full of fear, the sight still scares me to this day. She ran to me as fast as her little legs would carry her and leapt into my chest nearly knocking me over. My baby squeezed her little arms around my neck as tight as she could. Her fear instantly brought up a fiery fight inside of me like I have never felt before. I swear to you, it felt like I turned Super Saiyan, in an instant I wast ready to obliterate anything in my way for my lil heart.

“What is it baby?” I asked. “Tell daddy what it is!” I pleaded with her. Then she looked back and pointed. “Daddy Help bug, bug!” The first thing I thought was a large spider, or one of those ugly caterpillar looking bugs with all the legs. I raced to the other side of the room where she was playing, frantically looking through the toys on the floor. Not there. I scanned the wall up and down, nothing. Then I hear it again, my baby screams to the top of her lungs, she jumps up into my arms. She looks back and points again, “Bug, Bug!’

“Where baby? I don’t see it.” I said to her.

It hits me right on the forehead, nearly knocking me over holding my daughter. She screams again flailing her arms all over the place. I regain my composure and swing back missing horribly. I place my baby down, and look back to swing again. He was gone. I look down at my daughter and see the disappointment in her eyes. This can’t go down like this. I have to show her that I am her protector. This fly, has to die. I take off my slide and get to work swinging with all my might trying to get that joker.

After 15 minutes of swinging and missing I eventually gave up. It was a travesty of an outing. I was Russia, and he was Finland. My daughter even tried to get in on it and help kill him. (They really do mimmic everything we do) I also realized that I probably need to get back into the gym, when I went down to one knee on about my third break, my baby came over and said, “It’s ok daddy” All I could do was laugh at myself, and I kind of felt like even though she is only two and isn’t putting together complete sentences just yet, what she was really saying was “You’re not that guy pal, you’re not that guy.” She still loves me though, as imperfect as I am, and I’m ok with that.