As soon as I turn the corner I saw my daughter and her mother, or should I say my daughter with her Patty Labelle-esque lungs saw me. She let it be known that she saw me calling “Daddy and Biti, I wanna go with daddy” at the top of her lungs. This on one of the days she was with her mother since I teach two Statistics classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at a local University. I attempted to calm her down when she asked me to hold her and pick her up, and indicated that she wanted to go with me. I knew that she would not be able to go home tonight and I suspected she did to for she followed me up and down each isle with me, as she asked me “are we going home?”
Now for some reason, my daughter considers my house our house. Well not for some reason, I know why and it is because I have basically raised her our entire life until over the past several months when her mother started to step up to the plate. She since birth has been with me basically every day, morning and night. I potty trained her; I cooked for her and took her to school with me when I taught and even taught classes with her sleep in my arms as I lectured. We were at every baseball, basketball and football game my son had; not to mention with me each day as I was building out my store for dogs.
And although her mother saw her as a burden, and loved to party and hit the streets during the first two and a half years of her life, I do acknowledge that she loves her daughter. But I also must admit that if my daughter had a preference she would not spend one ounce of time with her. That alone saddens me. For she needs her mother as much as she needs her father.
Jones mane, you don’t know how I felt; like a coward, hurrying up to pay for our purchase to get out of the store so my daughter would not see me. As I was at the register, I could still hear her back by the dairy section calling me, saying to the top of her lungs I want my daddy.
By the time I got home, her mother had called. I called her back. She told me that she was still crying and asking for me although I could hear her in the background. As I spoke to her she calmed down a little but any answer short of me not coming to get her then was not gonna be accepted. I told her I would get her the next day and she said “come and get me now poppa, I don’t like mommy’s house, I wanna come home. When you get me, you not gone leave me?”
Addendum: Post #600 and If I don’t like and vehemently speak out about the Court Opinions of Clarence Thomas, is that Thomas bashing, and does that mean I am not supporting another black man? If not, why is such called Obama bashing if one disagrees with his policies?