We spent the afternoon celebrating my Dad’s birthday yesterday and while my husband and I grilled dinner and we all enjoyed a few beers, I thought to myself; Is that what my Dad pictured when they brought their little girl home from the hospital?
The Philadelphia Flyers advanced to their second series in the playoffs and as we yelled and threw ourselves out of our chairs with rants aimed at the TV, I couldn’t help but think about his expectations. Did he intend to have a sports-loving daughter, who can yell passionately (and at times like a sailor) at hockey players that will never be listening? Did he think about having weekly hangouts with her at the local brewery, where they’d hang out like pals and try the new nitro on tap?
But I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl and this was bound to happen. Having profound love and respect for my parents, as well as my heritage, I think I’ve adapted so many things from my Mom and my Dad. I just think no one expected the outcome to be such a 50/50 split. I go to tea rooms with my Mom and eat finger sandwiches but ended up marrying a man that I’ve taught the fundamentals of sports to. I know it’s trendy and annoying to hear a girl say they are a “guy’s girl” or “one of the boys”. I used to say that. I don’t know what I am now, except that I’m Shannon. I love sports, beer and rock as much as (some times more than) any guys I know. I also love cheesy romance books or movies.
Sometimes being a mix of what society considers being boyish and girlish can be frustrating though. I’ll never look like the girls who look like they stepped out of a salon or a Mac store because I’ll always be a little rough around the edges.
I suppose it’s good that being a woman doesn’t take up a hell of a lot of my time because I don’t want to be high maintenance but sometimes I’d like to be the drop dead gorgeous girl, just as much as I’d like to be thought of as an avid sports fan when I’m at a bar; instead of a man talking about the game to just my husband – who doesn’t listen to sports radio to and from work each day with fervor like I do. Have you ever just felt like you don’t fit in anywhere?
I know my Dad and my Mom love me the way I am. I’d just be curious to know what they expected out of the chipmunk-faced little girl.
(Cheesy alert) One thing I do know is that my Dad told me that when he’d see me run around the yard, he’d think that somewhere there was a little boy running around too and one day he’d marry me. It turns out my husband probably was running around at the same time, but in a cornfield far away and years later we ran into each other; Not in a cornfield though.