A single dad and his daughter [entry for Daily Flash Fiction Challenge (11-05-08 prompt)].
|Life, Camera - Action!
The squeals of joy had finally stopped, to the relief of my sorely abused eardrums, although green flash-afterimages continued to drift randomly through my field of vision. Of all the (hopefully) 'In' items I could have selected for Dana's thirteenth birthday, I had apparently hit upon The Number One choice of young teens everywhere - a digital camera. Remembering my own reaction to receiving a Brownie Instamatic - and the amount of money I'd spent buying film and then having it developed every month - I suppose the unbridled exuberance currently filling the living room shouldn't have come as such a surprise. A final neck-cracking hug, accompanied by a flurry of the Daddy's-little-girl kisses that kept me going, and Dana was out the door in search of subjects. The camera had cost a lot more than her first pacifier, but the result was the same: my baby was happy, and I was content.
After restoring order to the living room, I grabbed the laundry basket and went downstairs. It was the work of but a few minutes to sort my clothes and start loading; I didn't do Dana's anymore. "That's my underwear, Daddy! You can't look at that stuff!" she had shrieked one Saturday afternoon. A short lesson on whites versus colors had followed, and that had been that. From then on, the only time I ever saw any of her "unmentionables" was in the checkout line. Just wait until she hits the next stage, I mused; you'll be in separate lines at the supermarket - me and the groceries in one, and her, a feminine hygiene product and some cash in another. I sat down, picked up the latest teen magazine - without which I wouldn’t have a clue - and started reading.