Nine

I can't believe it! My little girl is 9! Well, she'll be 9 in two days.

Parents will understand the paradox that the years seem to have flown by, yet, it seems like an eternity since she was a baby. Without photographs or video -- luckily we have a lot of both -- I would hardly remember what she sounded like and looked like when she was small.

The so-called "tween" years are a lot of fun. I love watching her grow. I'm convinced that my daughter, somehow, is my purpose, my raison d'être. As she becomes more mature, more of a complete (for lack of a better term) person, I see my destiny, in a sense, unfolding. It's really cool . . . and kind of scary. I just hope that I've done the right things so far and will continue to shephard her through this crazy life until she is ready to start her own flock.

I love her so much! She's my baby girl! I can't wait to tell her this in the morning.

Happy Birthday, Munkins. You're the best thing -- or at least tied for first with your mom -- that ever happened to your old man.

Missed a perfect teaching/loving opportunity

For a reasonably intelligent person, I can really be an idiot at times. My precious little kiddo was willing to help me shovel the snow this morning. There's a lot snow to shovel, believe me.

She just wanted to spend time with her "Daddy." She wanted my attention. She wanted my approval. She wanted to serve and be helpful.

What did I do? I got impatient. I snapped at her a few times because she was "in the way" or doing something wrong. I barked a few times out of the frustration of the work. It took a long time, even with her help. It is hard work. Ignoring the enormity of her heart, the sweetness of her intent, I focused instead on the task. Even then I didn't slow down enough to teach her how to help or even explain how she could help.

I did thank her. I apologized for being snapping a few times. I paid her a little bit of cash to reward her hard work, even though she hadn't asked for or expected it. I explained that I got impatient because the job took a long time (at least 1 1/2 hours) and was very tiring. Those are not good excuses. She's more important than the driveway.

Why do I do these things? Why do I forget what is important? Why do I value those things that mean nothing at all? Why do I hurt my family?

The Air Hockey Stanley Cup (and lessons in patience and kindness)

I just happened to stop at a Salvation Army Thrift Store on the way home from a surprise trip to court -- which is a story in and of itself -- and had to pass a large, old air hockey table to get into the store. $19.99 is what the "Must Sell!" tag said was the price. The table, similar to the picture but larger and on legs, was in pretty darn good shape.

Normally I don't buy big items like that at Salvation Army (or anywhere for that matter.) But one payment of $19.99 and that game could be mine? Sold! Well, sort of.

I did some browsing but on my way out, I walked right over to the air hockey table just as a lady in her 60's was approaching it from the parking lot. We both arrived at the table at the same time. A sign taped to it says "It works!" but she wanted proof. Knowing she was thinking of buying my table, I was ready to pull the ca$h out and load it in the van. The lady was really sweet, asking me questions about where to get a puck -- someone had stolen original pucks -- and would it be easy to find one. I was tempted to tell her, "Yeah, they're almost impossible to find. You'll probably have to get lucky and find a used pick on e-bay or craigslist." I knew that would poison the purchase for her. But the "better angels of my nature" convinced me I should be truthful and just pray she didn't want to bother with such a burdensome purchase. "I think you can get pucks for these at Target or sporting goods stores," I replied.

We both went to the counter, her wanting to have someone test the table, me hoping she would get distracted by some nice jewelry or a blouse. A kind volunteer gladly plugged in the table and I went out to take a closer look, thinking the lady would be right behind me. While I was feeling the air pulse through the holes and running my hand over the table top, she was in the store trying to purchase my air hockey table. I was bummed out but not angry.

I could have said, "Hey, lady, I was here first!" but that confrontation isn't in my nature. When I told the volunteers I was satisfied and ready to buy the table at that moment, they asked her what she was doing. "I just put that on my charge card. But, tell you what, since it's you (meaning me) that wants it, you can have it." She seemed genuinely happy to do that for me and I was genuinely happy to accept. It was my air hockey table after all. I thanked her several times and she went on her way in the store.

The cynic in me figured that she just didn't want to be bothered with finding parts and getting this thing home. It is a huge table and needs two men to carry or even lift it. I found that out the hard way. Some assembly and dis-assembly was necessary, plus I had to go to a few stores before I found a puck. This was a several hour project today for me, so I feel good having spared her the trouble. Joking aside, I am thankful for her kind gesture.

It's in the garage now. I put Pledge on the playing surface and felt on the bottom of the paddles. Game on! The kiddo and I played for nearly an hour tonight. She's new(er) to the game but eventually she'll be able to destroy me. A playoff for some kind of trophy, a mini Stanley Cup perhaps, would be perfectly fitting. Since Red Wing Chris Osgood lives about a mile away and we have four paddles, I'll see if "Ozzie" wants to be on my team and the kiddo can have one of her neighborhood friends on hers. I think that's fair.

$19.99 (plus tax, gas and the cost of a few pucks and some felt) was a pretty good price to pay to be reminded that there are selfless people out there like the lady at Salvo. Better yet, I get hours of enjoyment with my daughter, another activity during which we can talk, laugh, bond and make memories. I don't think I could have made a better use of that money than that.