As I opened the car door, I let out a big exhale and I felt a little tear run down my face. I
pulled out of the parking lot of the local watering hole, and I wasn’t sad at all. It was absolutely a very happy tear. It was a simple night. A couple of beers and a couple games of trivia. It probably sounds a bit strange being so incredibly happy leaving a bar on a Wednesday night at 9:30 pm after showing again why I should never be trusted in a game of trivia. Man am I a dumb human. But I had just had my first beer with my just turned 21-year-old daughter.
Sure, she had finally made it. She has been looking forward to being 21 for the last couple years. It’s a big deal. It sort of opens the world in a way. A beer with a meal is almost always a good choice. But, you know, I made it too. We have a great relationship. We fight, we share music and books with each other, and we argue about big huge political issues just to highlight a few parts of our relationship. As much as I love to say that my wife raised the girl, I put in a lot of work just to still be asked to grab a beer. I logged so many damn hours listening to Taylor Swift and Selena Gomez, and all things Victorious, and Sam and Cat, and every single Camp Rock movie. As the kids aged, I shifted from friends interest to theirs. I knew someday this little work would pay off.
My wife raised these strong, powerful, tattooed, beautiful, badass daughters. I’m in awe of her brain and her heart and I’m so incredibly lucky these kids see her value and emulate her in the ways they can. My sacrifice was small, I just invested in what ever they were into. My wife poured her entire being into these kids. She exhausted herself making sure her daughters will be ready for whatever comes their way. For that, I won’t ever be able to repay her. I don’t know if she will ever truly know what she did for these kids. Because she is always prepping for the next problem or prepping for the next big move the kids will have to make. I get to ask “hey, what color scheme is your college room” or “do you think your fake id will work at the local bars at school” while she has handled loans, and leases, and schedules, and insurance and all these big huge college things.
Okay, enough about my wife. Yeah, you get it. She’s such a better person than I am. I do not deserve her.
Let’s get back to me. See, I did invest in the kids. I find the smallest ways to connect with them. A concert, a car ride, the aisles in a grocery store. And now, I can connect with my daughter over a beer and a plate of fried pickles. I’m damn proud of that. I heard this guy once say “I love drinking so much, I want to do it the rest of my life”. His message was about moderation, that nights will come and go, and the goal is to be able to do the things you love for as long as you can. I really connect to that message in some way. Tomorrow has become a day I look forward to. It may not seem like much, but I made an effort to not be hated by my kids tomorrow. So, whatever tomorrow is, I’m invited to the party.
I called my wife on the way home from the bar and just couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
She could feel it through the phone. I said “I can’t believe we got here”. But, you know, I actually can. I earned that beer with my daughter in so many small ways. She’s a great person for asking her Dad to have a beer. I’m sure for her it was a small thing. A pretty cool moment, a beer with Dad. Nothing she’s going to write almost 800 words about! A small thing, a small gesture, was a BIG thing for her Dad. Now I just need to convince her that Miller High Life is champagne of beers and my work will be done.
Ever since I started writing on this page, I have talked about how important the little things are. I can’t predict the big things in life, I probably won’t be of much help when they come around, but that is why I married my beautiful, smart, very very hard working wife. She’s got the big things, and I’ve got the Wednesday night trivia and beer. A pretty fair trade if you ask me.
Forever and always the luckiest guy in any room I’m in.
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