I am the oldest girl in my family, and I remember being twelve and seeing the look on my father's face when he noticed I was wearing makeup--a flash of sadness, another of nervousness at what the makeup meant: certainty that I was growing older, maybe becoming interested in guys--and I knew that in that second, my dad was worrying about the years to come, visualizing a procession of boys knocking on his door, then whisking his daughter to who knows where for who knows what. And I understood--I really did--but I still wore the makeup.
i never noticed that look until i was getting ready to graduate. i was so wrapped up in my life, but i know now he surely felt it.
ReplyDeleteI don't recall ever seeing that look, though it undoubtedly was given. I know I've already given it to my son . . . and he's not even twenty months left. I imagine what I experience now is just a seed of what I'll feel when he's 12.
ReplyDeleteTara and Deb, our perspectives really change when we have kids, don't they? :)
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