Issy Woo Woo

The little girl in the photo is my soon-to-be (Oct.19) eight year old. Please allow me to lay a little backstory on you. I first met her, Isabella, when she had just turned two years old. It was on the phone. I instantly fell in love with her the first time she called me “Tovy”. She would talk the gibberish that two year olds talk, throw in an coccasional “Tovy” and I pretended to understand every single syllable. Come to think of it, I think I really did understand every single syllable. That “conversation” took place almost six years ago and I am no longer “Tovy”, I am “Daddy”. She is no longer “Daddy’s Little Girl”, at least in her mind, she is “Daddy’s Young Lady”. She’s my first little girl and until the Good Lord calls me Home, she’ll always be “Daddy’s Little Girl”. I have two grown sons and love them dearly, but there’s just something supernatural that touches your soul when you are blessed with a little girl…at the age of 49. This morning about 7:30, Isabella got on the bus for her first day of second grade. At that moment, I saw the future. The future of a little girl that wants to be a Pediatrician, the future of a little girl that will some day will give me my next round of Grand Kids, the future of a little girl that in so many ways offers endless opportunity for her dreams to come true. I also saw the future of the United States climb up on that bus this morning with about thirty other kids. I saw the future of this country that will be responsible for the mess our elected dumbasses in Washington are making worse by the minute and I was damned mad at those idiots. How dare they do this to my little girl! A bunch of pantywaist elitists doing their dead level best to shatter my little girl’s dreams before she even finishes 2nd grade! How dare those bastards! Then, out of nowhere, a sudden calm came over me. As spark-spittin’ angry as I was a moment before, I was strangely at peace, comforted by something. Or someone. A soothing silence set in around me. Despite the chatter of a bus load of children,  the growling of the bus’ diesel motor and my three year old screaming goodbye to her big sister, I heard nothing but a reassuring voice speaking to me. “Toby, don’t be angry at the future, be confident in it. The trials and tribulations you face today are in good hands tomorrow”. The Voice was right, the future will be fine for my little girl, and yours, too. How do I know? About 7:30 this morning, I saw the future get on a school bus headed for the first day of second grade.

This story was inspired by eddiebear at doubleplusundead.

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