Some things that dads can’t do

By Joel Myhre (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, November 22, 2008

There’s a book that we have been reading our daughter over her soon-to-be four-year life span called “What Dads Can’t Do.” Of course, the idea behind this book is to show how dads are being really wonderful dads, saying they always lose at checkers, always need a hug before bedtime, etc.

While that’s great and all, I have also discovered that, in my quest to be a good dad, there are some things that dads truly can’t do, or at least this dad can’t do. This revelation has come from the fact that my daughter has evolved from a baby to a girl.

For those who have been out of the young child loop a while, with babies, gender is essentially irrelevant. They eat. They sleep. They need their diaper changed. They need to get bathed and dressed. And they need love and attention.

But the bittersweet reality is, at some point, babies eventually become men and women. To do that, they first have to be boys and girls. And as a person who was never a girl, I have discovered I need a lot of practice at some things; so much so, in fact, that I may never really get the hang of these so-called “girl things.”

Picking out clothes is a primary issue. Fact is, I struggle dressing myself. I’m color blind, which essentially means I can’t tell the difference between purples and blue, or brown and green. In addition, I am lousy at knowing whether certain colors “go together” or “clash.”

I have dealt with this issue by wearing a lot of khaki pants, which means I can wear whatever shirt I want without fear of it clashing.

It doesn’t work that way for my daughter. Her pants come in a gamut of colors and patterns: red, blue, green, brown, flowery, stripy, and so on. And then, of course, there are the dresses, which can come in every imaginable color and pattern. Invariably, I get it wrong.

Fixing hair is another doozy. Other than a six-month period in the eighties when I sported a perm, and then that short time in college when I thought it would be cool to shave a line in the back of my head, the objective of my hair style has been to avoid attention, and require little maintenance. Wash, towel dry, a dab of wax or gel, and we’re out the door.

Over the past two years, my daughter’s hair has become long and curly. In the morning, it tends to look like Chris Farley’s after a particularly wild Saturday Night Live skit. Something just must be done. There are lots of options: one ponytail, two ponytails, one barrette, two barrettes, a combination of barrettes and ponytails. No matter what I do to her hair, it never quite looks right.

Now, when the architect of this fashion plan, my wife, is around, everything is fine. She, of course, bought all the clothes, and knows what goes with what. She creates styling masterpieces that would make my daughter eligible for one of those magazines you find at the stylist waiting areas.

When my wife is home, things are fine. She picks out the clothing, I dress her, she does her hair, and we’re good to go. When spouse is out of town, and plans aren’t in place such as picking out clothing in advance, trouble ensues. Top off the fact that my daughter is a late sleeper and a “lollygagger” in the morning, causing us to rush our clothing and hair issues, I wonder if someone will be giving me a citation for bad daughter appearance.

I try to convince my wife that I’m doing the best I can. She finds it difficult to believe. If I were a woman, I also would find it difficult to believe. Frankly, I’m jealous. It’s not that I don’t want to pick her clothes out and style her hair. Nor is it that I don’t want to learn. I’m just incompetent.

Like I said, there are just some things dads can’t do.

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Joel Myhre is The Journal’s general manager. E-mail him at joel.myhre@fergusfallsjournal.com