Thanks and Wishes . . .

I don't often carry on about my child and how smart, pretty, funny, bright, caring, sweet, or giving she is. There's a few reasons for this. A) People who do that are utter assholes. B) I can't really take credit for a lot of it. In a world of nature vs. nurture adoptive parents (at least in my case) are constantly plagued with wonder if your child "is" who they are because of, through your support, or in spite of you. I am my daughter's FATHER. The only one. All me. I have no confusion with that BUT I have moments where I feel like she is bigger and better than me.

An example - Thanksgiving morning. Being the cliched, pathetic, sad-sack divorced dad of a man I am - I had just two hours with my child today (I could have had more, the kiddo's mother is very generous and accommodating) but it was not my day. I am sad to be officially in the first "holiday season" of my post-marriage life and, frankly, we moved to Wichita to be with my ex-wife's family. them have days like today to enjoy the larger community of Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, etc.

I can do grumpy all by myself.

I digress . . .

After an uneventful meal (Denny's), she and I went to the Riverwalk to look at the new, choreographed fountain installation and, without my notice or initiation, the kid grabbed a handful of coins on her way out of the car. We walked over to the fountain, she handed me a quarter (I promptly put it in my pocket and asked for a penny) and said "Let's make wishes for Mommy." We went through this for everyone in our shared world including friends of her mother's I barely know and friends of mine that my daughter barely knows (about 26 people, if my count is correct). I let her take the lead on each person. She thanked them for being in her life, she expressed gratitude for what they bring to her life, she wished/asked for something for each of them in the near future (most were extended high hopes for a stellar Santa haul (she's 6, leave her alone)) but the most spectacular part of the whole thing was what happened last.

I warned her, as this exercise dragged on, that we had just two coins left (I am sure the mailman was next for the exercise since he provides catalogs, magazines, and junk mail to our world so we were wrapped up). She took them from me, walked half way around the fountains to a pond-like shore, and simply laid the pennies down (photo above). As she walked away, I asked her what she did it for. She casually, charmingly, and with cynicism shattering cuteness (I can brag on my kid) simply stated . . .

"We've asked for enough. I hope someone else finds these and throws them in for people they love."

Happy Thanksgiving, all.