Daddy-daughter day
Dedicating time and money to who matters most.
Few disappointments cut me deeper as a father than letting down my daughter around Valentine’s Day.
I’m not a fan of the customary, or shall I say manufactured, celebration. I sniffed out that capitalistic money pit long before adopting my “Money Talks” mindset.
The problem for me is Parker enjoys the traditional festivities. And this year, she let her frustration with me be known.
Each year, there’s a Daddy-daughter dance on the Thursday before Valentine’s. Parker likes attending. She dresses up. She poses for pictures. She dances like the Tasmanian Devil. She devours desserts. From what I remember, it’s a great time. Truthfully, I don’t know anymore.
I haven’t asked Parker to be my Valentine’s date since 2019.
Now, before you dismiss me as a deadbeat dad, let me explain.
The COVID-19 pandemic halted the event in 2020 and 2021. Parker’s grandfather accompanied her in 2022 and 2023. Her uncle on her mother’s side took her this year.
I don’t care for either filling in for me like I’m an absent father. I also don’t want Parker allowing anyone to imitate me moving forward. I take great pride in being Parker’s father. It’s no one else’s place. Even at the tender age of 10, Parker must understand that and never let anyone dare try to replicate our relationship.
Fill-ins are needed only when a parent is not present. I very much am and always have been for Parker.
Still, for the past three years, I didn’t make Valentine’s Day a priority.
“You’ve only gone twice in five years,” Parker told me, with as much sorrow emitting from her sweet voice as you might imagine.
My only defense? Duty called.
On Feb. 8, the night of the dance, I was working in Memphis, Tenn. It was an important date on my work calendar — the NBA’s trading deadline — and I had to be on the scene in case something happened.
I had the same conflict the previous two years. In 2023, the dance was Feb. 9 and so was the trade deadline. In 2022, the dance was Feb. 10, as was the trade deadline.
But I’d like to think I made things right with Parker.
First, I brought her back an oreo red velvet cupcake from Colossal Cupcakes in Cleveland, where I was working on Valentine’s Day this year. I also bought her an inexpensive set of colorful flowers. I presented both to Parker as soon as I picked her up from school on Feb. 15.
A week later, Parker informed me she didn’t have school that Friday. There was a conference makeup, which gave her a four-day weekend with President’s Day the following Monday.
That’s when I informed Parker that we could flip our free Friday into fun.
“Remember you said we could go to a museum one day,” Parker reminded me.
When it’s not driving me crazy, Parker’s memory cracks me up. She’s a proud stickler yet only remembers the most random things. Ask her about her day and she’s liable to come down with a sudden case of amnesia.
So I was stunned when Parker brought up the museum. During a Daddy-daughter day out back on Aug. 18, I promised her we’d go to a museum “one day.” My little girl clung to my words for half a year. She asked to go to a museum back on that August day, and I briefly considered it. I balked at the price, though, and we went home.
But what’s the point of building wealth if I’m just going to balk at prices?
I want to be wiser. I need to be more sensible. More importantly, I must provide Parker with pleasant and memorable experiences. Sometimes that will require spending. Sometimes it will cost more than I believe it should.
My plan for fun fell into that category.
On Feb. 16, I took Parker to the Color Factory.
Located at the bottom of the Willis Tower skyscraper in Chicago, this kid-friendly museum describes itself as an interactive art experience celebrating the joy of color.
I paid $83.14 for two tickets, $39 for an adult general admission and $28 for a child between the ages of 3-12. Taxes and fees totaled $16.14.
But it was worth every penny. We spent an hour and a half exploring sights, sounds, smells and tastes. They offered free jelly beans, an assortment of colorful macaroons that featured different flavors and easy-to-use photo stations.
Following the Color Factory, we walked over to the nearby Chicago Fed Money Museum. Parker seemed to enjoy it more than me. We were there for 45 minutes, and she never stopped engaging with the exhibits. This stop was free of charge. It helped to make our day.
And in the end, I kept my word.
But next year, I’m making that Daddy-daughter dance.
Can’t get enough Money Talks?
Daddy/Daughter - Love & Riches!!