Who's Your Daddy?
I often chat with the kids and their parents, and have come to know one mother and her daughter. They are both from Yugoslavia. Though the woman is still married to the girl’s father and seems to have a decent relationship, the father remains in Yugoslavia. It’s an odd family situation and, frankly, none of my business.
The girl has been in the United States for most of her 3 years, and though she could identify her father in a photo, didn’t really seem to know him. She’s a tiny little thing, and absolutely adorable, though a little shy.
That’s why, yesterday, I was startled (and a little terrified) that when she saw me, she ran up to me and said in a loud, happy voice, “Daddy!” Her mother said to me, “She looks like you.”
Now, this is not a complication I need. I can tell you for a fact that I am not this girl’s daddy. But if my wife (who leans toward jealousy and paranoia in these matters) heard that exchange, I’d have my eyes scratched out in nothing flat. Then, she would proceed to kill me in an excruciatingly painful way every day for the rest of my life. Plus, there might be other rumormongers wandering around. Not helpful.
I think I’ll have to make myself a little scarce around the preschoolers for a while.