I was completely distracted by a new, young father and his infant daughter at church the other day. I don’t imagine he heard a lot of the sermon as his little peanut gazed at him adoringly , cooed, smiled, and showed the first inklings of a laugh. I remembered with an ache when my own daughter, sitting next to me in the pew, was completely mesmerized by my face.
Somewhere about three quarters into the sermon, the baby girl’s first hint at a laugh turned into the first hint of a whimper, and before you could say Amen, a full-fledged cry. She was passed to her mother, who quickly whisked her away through a side door. My thoughts were again on my daughter beside me – now a teenager in every sense of the word. Like the baby in the pew, her moods can change so quickly it’s a wonder we don’t all get whiplash.
I spoke to the young father after church, but did not tell him what I knew – that one day in about 15 years, his sweet little peanut would go from adoring looks to slamming doors and back again. These girls can turn on a dime.
Somewhere about three quarters into the sermon, the baby girl’s first hint at a laugh turned into the first hint of a whimper, and before you could say Amen, a full-fledged cry. She was passed to her mother, who quickly whisked her away through a side door. My thoughts were again on my daughter beside me – now a teenager in every sense of the word. Like the baby in the pew, her moods can change so quickly it’s a wonder we don’t all get whiplash.
I spoke to the young father after church, but did not tell him what I knew – that one day in about 15 years, his sweet little peanut would go from adoring looks to slamming doors and back again. These girls can turn on a dime.
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