Day Seven - Bird's Swing Set

Because I stumbled on a folder on the internet of a bunch of pure adorable photos of fathers and daughters being adorable.

And this is what happens when that happens.


Bird's first day of first grade killed me.

I got out of having to send her kindergarden or preschool. Bird was special, so I got her a nanny-tutor-all-in-one deal.

I don't mean she was slow or special ed or a needs child. She was smart. Quick. Astounding.

She was just not tough.

I hate that I gave her all of my sensitivity, but there it is. I did.

She understood everything was the problem. She understood what it meant to use words hatefully. She understood glances and stares and raised eyebrows.

She took everything, and I mean everything, to heart.

She loved going to the park and swinging. I took her to this park a block from our apartment with a really nice playground and swing set. And then a dejected swing set off to the side.

We like the dejected swing set.

Or rather Bird does.

There's only one swing left there that is swingable. But Bird adores that swing. She named it Frederico.

I don't know where she comes up with these things.

I once asked her pediatrician if I should be worried that her best friend is a swing named Frederico, and the pediatrician stared at me for a good ten seconds before finally blinking and saying, "It'll pass. I think."

So we would go see Frederico almost daily.

One day while she was swinging and talking away to Frederico and I was reading the latest Nicholas Spark book - the dejected swing set is also a judgement free zone - we both looked up at the sound of an utterly pitiful meow.

Turns out a cat that was already half dead was being attacked by a group of birds. I've never seen my Bird scream and shout and kick like that. She nearly killed those birds.

She insisted we take the cat home and bring it back to real life. I told her it could only be for a few nights because technically pets weren't allowed in our apartment complex.

I don't know who I was kidding; that cat has never left Bird's side. He sleeps on her pillow right next to her head at night. She named him Moccasin.

Her first day of first grade, I thought I would never get her out of the house. She kept insisting she needed to say goodbye to Moccasin one more time.

When we finally got to school, she was holding my hand so tightly my hand was numb after. I guess I had done a pretty bad time of making sure she had actual friends up until that point, so she didn't know how to act seeing other actual children.

She looked up at me when I gave her the speech about how first grade was fun and she would meet so many other kids and it was going to be fun. She looked up at me and her eyes were so wide and there were tears forming in them.

"I'll do it," she whispered. "I'll do it for you, daddy."

My little Bird. The bravest girl in the world.