I’m a single Dad and I’ve probably done a lot of things that I regret. But there are so many more I did that I am proud of. One of which is raising my only daughter, Dorothy. When Dorothy was younger, life was easy.
I got her to like football, we watched the games together. We even bought and wore matching jersey shirts on one of the big games. I was a hero. But I guess, after too many birthday cakes, she started to look for another kind of hero.
Raising a teenager is pretty hard. But raising a female teenager is just plain torture. We had to deal with the monthly period, the make-up buying, and what length of a skirt is too short. She stopped going out with me because apparently I embarrass her in front of her friends.
In the evening, I go home to microwave food in the kitchen and a closed bedroom door of my daughter’s. We have run out of stories to read and things to talk about. She doesn’t like football anymore. She now likes the teenagers who play it in her school.
Her first date was especially hard. She was sixteen. Our SadoTech Wireless SQ1-MBL Doorbellhas been going off like crazy. I finally adjusted its volume. I thought Dorothy was sleeping upstairs. Peeking outside my window, there was a pick-up truck that was triggering the sensor.
A boy climbed down and walked up to our porch. But because I was alerted that he was coming, I opened the door right before he could press our wireless doorbell. He was obviously taken aback as I looked at him from head to foot. He stuttered his sentences when greeting me and looking for my daughter.
I have to set him in his place. But before I can do that, Dorothy was already bounding down the stairs. He might have sent her a text. Maybe she heard the doorbell go off from the receiver upstairs, I don’t know.
Because I am a cool Dad. I let them off with a 9 o’clock curfew warning. At 9 o’clock, my doorbell chimed at their arrival. And just as he was about to lean in, I opened the window where one of our sensors are. They jolted apart from each other and gave hasty goodbyes.
I smirked as Dorothy came up the porch stairs and opened the door. She kissed me goodnight from the living room where I pretended to watch a game. Silently, I gave her a soda, which she took. She dropped on the couch beside me.
My daughter may be slipping away from me, but I still have tons of ways to keep her safe. I know she’s got a life of her own. Yet at sixteen, she still needs her Dad to protect her from teenage heartbreaks.