Our daughter’s real name is Poppy. The critics seem unanimous in their verdict: Poppy as a name sucks choda. “She will be teased as a teenager“. “It’s so… hippyish“. “She’s a heroin addict“. “Why not Apple while you’re at it“? Yet, in my neck of the woods, Rose, Jasmine, Lilly, Daisy, Iris and Violet are all fair game. Every parent is an expert. Every parent will also end up with an angry clown lying under their bed, licking their fingers. On with the post.
Tiny Geek turned three this year. Our daughter is learning two languages, simultaneously. I’m amazed at how fast her vocabulary is expanding, in both French and English: “I want to cut your eyes“. “I want to hurt you“. “La plume de ma tante“. She can also spell GIVE ME THIS, I WANT, and MINE backwards. One of her newest favourite expressions is this one: NOooOOoOOOOooooOOOOO!!!!!!, usually spoken louder than a powered jackhammer.
Our daughter doesn’t walk—she runs. We were visiting friends who live in the country last weekend. Tiny Geek chased after their dogs until the poor creatures collapsed with exhaustion. Fearing for their lives. Hoping not to be devoured. When Tiny Geek watches her favourite television shows (Yo Gabba Gabba and Game of Thrones), she won’t sit still… Think zombie, the very fast 28 Days Later kind. Or the seemingly meth-addled spectres one finds in Japanese horror flicks1, that walk and move on super fast forward towards the screen… Except when my daughter is watching. Then they hide. And cry.
She used to forego sleep. By default, my wife and I looked like shit. Today, she sleeps, but my wife and I still look like shit. Scratch that… I’m the only one who looks like shit—my wife looks like the first day of Spring, minus the smell of thawed dog poop. Full nights of sleep didn’t come easy. The first step was to move Tiny Geek into her own room and avoid her wrath. We did so by painting the walls as she instructed and referring to her room as her altar:
We own a cat; Tiny Geek loves animals. When she was a smaller child, our daughter would go the extra mile just to pet the cat. She would let herself drop on the animal, using her body weight to immobilize the cat, and pet her whiskers by plucking them out. Now that she is older, we have lost track of the whereabouts of our cat.
We love you Tiny Geek.
Carnies, you should too.
God save your soul.
So many years of happiness ahead of us.
If we survive another year.
1 This one is by SJ, from Snobbery.