I’ve never won the lottery, but I consider myself a very lucky man. Not only am a married to an amazing woman, but we’ve been blessed with four kids (at last count). Even luckier though, I have two daughters. Please don’t get me wrong — I love my sons dearly, and I admit that a father’s relationship with all of his children is vital. But there is something different about daughters, and not just different about them, but even the bond I have with them is inherently different from what I have with my sons.
As an example, I’ll freely admit that I’m more protective of my girls than my boys. And it’s not from some misogynistic view that girls are more fragile or weak. To me, girls represent all that’s beautiful and sacred in the world, and that makes them inherently more magical. Onyx and diamonds are both strong, but only the diamond sparkles. It’s like that for me. Little girls just sparkle, and not in a lame-ass Twilight kinda way. They radiate beauty, and I don’t want to see anything tarnish that. I want to guard all of my kids, but the tone of it is a little different. Hurt my boys, and I won’t like you. Hurt my girls, and I want to rip out your lungs and make kabobs out of them. Continue reading