Daddy's Little Girl
Submitted for: Writers On A Ranch
Jason M. Budisic
Speech
January 16, 2013
DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL
The most delicate, mouse-like voice used to resonate throughout my house. “Daddy, daddy…can you read me a story? Daddy, can I go to the store with you? Daddy, do you like my dress?” Macayla was the epitome of ‘daddy’s little girl.’ When I would work in the garage, she would come out there and ask me if I could teach her how to use my tools or if I would teach her how to paint. I remember in the fall of 2008, I had just gotten the grill started. I was looking all over the house for Macayla because she used to love hanging by the grill and listening to Kid Rock with me. I had found her outside, just out of view of the garage. She had snuck into the garage and found my airbrush paint and was sitting on the ground painting a figurine. At that moment, I wasn’t too happy. But, now that I think back, it was one of the cutest things she ever did.
I had noticed a few little changes at first. Her room started to become increasingly messier; clothes started to lie around the bathroom floor for days; and she stopped coming out of her room as often. As a normal parent would respond, I would tell her daily to clean her room, take out her trash, and put her clothes away. At first, she would do it right away. But then she learned something…how to roll her eyes! This had started around the age of twelve. So, I was forced to learn that she was growing up and I had to mature as a parent. The reprimands were miniscule at first so that each time she would act up; she would be punished a little more. It got to the point that she learned that lying would help her get away with trouble a little better. I had to think quickly since I don’t like physical punishments. So, I had to learn to reward her for doing the right thing and reprimanding her for the wrong things.
Macayla and I drifted apart for what seemed like an eternity. I had to build my
Jason M. Budisic
Speech
January 16, 2013
DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL
The most delicate, mouse-like voice used to resonate throughout my house. “Daddy, daddy…can you read me a story? Daddy, can I go to the store with you? Daddy, do you like my dress?” Macayla was the epitome of ‘daddy’s little girl.’ When I would work in the garage, she would come out there and ask me if I could teach her how to use my tools or if I would teach her how to paint. I remember in the fall of 2008, I had just gotten the grill started. I was looking all over the house for Macayla because she used to love hanging by the grill and listening to Kid Rock with me. I had found her outside, just out of view of the garage. She had snuck into the garage and found my airbrush paint and was sitting on the ground painting a figurine. At that moment, I wasn’t too happy. But, now that I think back, it was one of the cutest things she ever did.
I had noticed a few little changes at first. Her room started to become increasingly messier; clothes started to lie around the bathroom floor for days; and she stopped coming out of her room as often. As a normal parent would respond, I would tell her daily to clean her room, take out her trash, and put her clothes away. At first, she would do it right away. But then she learned something…how to roll her eyes! This had started around the age of twelve. So, I was forced to learn that she was growing up and I had to mature as a parent. The reprimands were miniscule at first so that each time she would act up; she would be punished a little more. It got to the point that she learned that lying would help her get away with trouble a little better. I had to think quickly since I don’t like physical punishments. So, I had to learn to reward her for doing the right thing and reprimanding her for the wrong things.
Macayla and I drifted apart for what seemed like an eternity. I had to build my