My Sweet Wittle Rowan

Today, Erica is working a conference at Purdue. This means, it's time for a "Daddy-Daughter Day", as we refer with affection.  I love these days. It's just me and the kid doing fun stuff, cooking together, watching a movie, playing outside, etc. Today DDDay was a little different, in that we attended a field trip organized through Rowan's Girl Scout troupe. It was a father and daughter's only outing to Monster Golf. Monster Golf....think Chuckie Cheese meets Putt Putt, indoors, with lots of black lights, neon paint, and "scary to a 6 year old" images. It was fun for what it was. This was the second time I have taken Rowan for miniature golf. Her interest lasted twice as long as the previous venture. So,...after hole 4....we hit the arcade area. We probably dropped 10 dollars, and had a green plastic whistle and a sucker to show for our efforts afterwards. Arcades like this give me mixed emotions. Rowan, loves them and thinks they're amazing. I, on the other hand, have minimal fun and can't stop thinking the whole time that I'd have been better off just burning my money. I digress. Thank goodness for skee ball and pop a shot or I'd have totally hated it.
     Part of the field trip included lunch for the dads and daughters. Dominoes pizza was delivered, and I was quickly reminded why I never get Dominoes pizza. That's neither here not there. During lunch, Rowan and I sat with one of her classmates (Paige) and her father. Paige was very well behaved, but, Rowan was a bit more of a "show off" with a bit too much unbridled energy for dining. I redirected Rowan more than twice by sitting her back in her chair, and quietly yet sternly telling her to "sit down and eat", and,"quit jumping around until we're done eating." By the time I had to ask her for a 3rd time, Rowan was quick to identify my "I'm not kidding" face, and sat down and finished her slice.
      We played a few more arcade games. I let her beat me at air hockey, prompting her to laugh at me stating "Kicked yer butt, daddy!!" I said nothing. ... Rowan gave some hugs, said her goodbyes, and we were back in the pickup heading home. On the way home, I turned off the radio and initiated a conversation about what it means to listen well, and, do what your parents ask you to the first time. For the most part, Rowan listened, though she did start most defenses with "But dad, I was just......yada,yada,yada." She ended by agreeing to do things when asked the first time from now on.
     At home, I began doing the dishes. Rowan, grabbed the Swifter and began spraying the cleaning fluid non stop. I told her, "That's enough", and she continued. I again said,"Rowan....please stop wasting the cleanser." She didn't stop. Now, she began spraying the carpet. At this, I turned off the water where I was, raised my voice to louder-sterner level and said,"Rowan!! Listen to me. Stop wasting the Swifter juice!!!!". She drops the mop, and breaks into tears asking,"why are you yelling at me daddy??". As I attempt to explain, she turns around and saunters off to her room while bawling, and trying to say how mean she thinks I am. I let her go, figuring a little regrouping time on her own, and for me, would be good.
       Rowan stayed in her room for a good ten minutes. The crying eventually subsided, and I heard her bedroom door open. I waited, but she did not emerge to the living room where I now was. I heard another sound. I believed it was the sound of scotch tape being dispensed. A moment later, I heard her door shut again. Curiosity made me go see what was going on. I walked down the hallway, and, when I arrived at her shut door, I saw a crudely written note taped to the door. It had two words that simply stated, "No Joe". I had to put my hand over my mouth not to laugh aloud, and I hurried away. I didn't want to demean her action since I think she was being very serious. Also, the "J" in Joe was backwards, which added to the "Little Rascal esque" quality of the note.
        Ten minutes later, I hear her door open again. I then heard the rip sound, and crinkling of paper. Rowan came out to the living room with lower lip puffed a bit. I asked her,"How ya doin'?" She shrugged ans said,"I was really mad at you." I replied,"I know...I saw your note." She immediately stated "I ripped that up. I wrote that when you were making me mad. I'm not mad any more." I apologized for yelling, but, reassured her that mommy or I would probably yell again unless she works on her listening skills. She agreed.

        Rowan and I hugged each other tight, watched an episode of Spongebob, shared some Chips Ahoy and milk, and now, are setting up plastic bowling pins in the hall. I think we're good now.