There she was; my daughter. I was going to get rid of the flaming red Barbie convertible. With unopened boxes of Barbies the car wasn’t going to be much use around here. Happy that it was a hand-me-down and that someone did not pay for another disappointed look from my fledgling tomboy I had tossed it aside on the porch. Now a few days later I watched her declare that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle was the new owner of said convertible and I watched it speed around the porch in record time…and off the porch. Yes that was fun. At least the Barbie convertible didn’t have the gun-power capabilities of shooting pizzas at me as it raced by.

It has been that way for the last seven years. Ever since she was old enough to declare she was not wearing pink; or dresses for that matter. Although she assures me that when she marries she will wear a wedding dress. Apparently she has sense enough for pomp and circumstance. I just hope she remembers to comb her hair, do her nails and put on deodorant, and not necessarily in that order.

She is beautiful and remarkable. She is an artist, a musician, and an inventor; and only 10 going on old too fast for me. Our little lady, who is dedicated to wearing pants with pockets and functional shoes, neither pink, even if it is camouflage…her favorite if green.

As she is not my only daughter I’m certain I will have my chance at fancy and pink with the next two, although she has left her indelible influence on them as I maneuver through Legos, Magnetix and Snap Circuits.

While she likes to sing and dance, she is not a HS Musical fanatic. Some with delicate tastes choose flutes and violins while mine has chosen the baritone; an instrument more than half her size. And while most kids pick out simpler science projects, my Renaissance woman needs power tools and electrical elements to make it light up and buzz while it holds a book for reading. Note to self, Dad is not allowed to travel when science projects are due.

Sugar and spice and what? Yes she is nice and kind…except now she has sisters. After seven years with no sharing I figured on some tough adjustments when the younger girls got older…I’ll have to figure on some more. But she’s my number one. She’s an apple that really didn’t fall far from the tree. Who else would I watch baseball with? Certainly not her father, he doesn’t know a thing about baseball.