Daddy's Little Girl

by: Mizpah Mijares

I roll curlers on his hair while he sleeps, I pluck the hairs on his armpit and he likes it, and he sighs when I used his office documents as my scratch paper during my first few days from joining the grade school.

I stomp my feet in front of his friends when he keeps ignoring me, I cheat by covering my booty with a cardboard when he disciplines me, I cry like a wolf everytime he leaves me, and I ran to him for help to find my lost front tooth in the middle of the grass-covered school quadrangle.

His snoring is like a trombone that puts me to sleep while it shakes up others at night. I'm lulled to lie flat on his bulging tummy as he breathes a whirlwind. He is the first person to know where my tickle is, and he walks like a giant as he goes up the stage to hang the medal around my neck during Awards Ceremony.

In a snap, I'd recite a poem, dance without music, sing like a pro, and act like a superstar…all these, I'd eagerly do, at his command.

I was a little girl then… and thinking back about my childhood brings me some awkward feelings of wanting to go back to that moment and see my daddy younger, with lesser gray hairs, and a smaller belly. I want to experience back the time when he surprised me during my elementary grade graduation, as he told me earlier that week he'd never be able to make it on that day for his seminar.Then I saw him approaching the stage with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. It was a joy so immense you would never experience even with your greatest lovelife.

He cracks a joke and I would cry in laughter. His dance move is awesome to behold (at least better than my mom's). His singing is something you'd rather hear than Michael Buble or Christian Bautista. No, he's not blessed enough to have the talent, it's the rare moments of him singing that urges you to trade everything else for.

He waives at everyone like a politician, he made our home a mansion of love and spirit-filled, and his heart is pure to welcome abandoned animals like a lost child. I'm proud of my dad.

He hides away like a thief in the night when his heart is broken. His praises are extreme and his nose grows bigger when he tells a lie. He tries not to be so serious at the most difficult times. His jokes are modest but his decisions are zealous.

He taught me how to become independent, hard-working and to use my head over my heart.

As I have matured, I long to have more of him, more of his time, and hear more of his jokes.

Daddy's little girl has become a woman, whom he will be walking down the isle real soon.

The little girl who would never let go of his hand as they walk around the city, go to school, and sometimes watch a movie ( or a "betamax" in the 80's ). The little girl who sits beside him in the classroom as he pursues his College degree at the community college right after he's off from work. The little girl who sleeps on the chair waiting for her daddy to finish the last subject for the day. The little girl who serves as the bodyguard, and the "James Bond" spy for the benefit of her mom. The little girl who scrutinizes every woman from head-to-toe who tries to start a conversation with him, and the little girl who lead him to debt to expense her school's extra curricular activities, and soon….. the little girl who's gonna be breaking his heart for marrying.

The little girl will soon kiss her daddy goodbye for someone… the little girl will soon cry.

The little girl wishes nothing but…. "Daddy, I love you, it's about time... let's walk down the isle, and please…... don't cry."