I was softly drifting off into a nice afternoon slumber on the couch when I was suddenly pulled back to consciousness by a voice in the distance. It was my youngest daughter talking to me from the other room. I tried to quickly gather myself in an attempt to recover from the fog of exhaustion that was gently falling over me. As I sat up and started to get my bearings, I tried to decipher what she was saying.
The words finally fell into place and formed a coherent sentence. “Daddy, we need to meet my friend at Party City at 5:30.”
I squinted my eyes, lifted my wrist, and peered at my watch to determine what that really meant. It was 5:02. Great.
My lazy recovery from the elusive sleep I desired quickly turned into a rush of adrenaline as I realized we had to go. Now. Maybe she caught me at a vulnerable moment. Maybe she planned it this way. Maybe she figured if I was half asleep I wouldn’t be able to fight back with logic. I don’t think I realized that I was being played until we were in the car speeding away from the house.
So there I was, driving down the road with my youngest sitting next to me on our way to Party City. Unbeknownst to me, extensive plans were underway to finalize her Halloween costume with her friends. She was leading the charge and I had been demoted to simply serving as her driver.
Prior to pulling me into her master plan, she had organized a meeting at Party City with her friend from school. Somehow both parents were simply going along for the ride. I’m not exactly sure how this happened but there was some comfort in knowing there was another parent being summoned at the last moment to drive to a location we had nothing to do with. Misery loves company.
As we were driving, she went into full tactical operations mode. First, she pulled out her phone and reached over to turn down the radio. Yes, my radio. Suddenly I was cast into a world of silence as she went to work. So where does this leave me? Driving my kid to the store at a moment’s notice, on her demand, and basically muzzled for the duration. Outstanding.
She then started calling her friends. There were multiple players involved in this plan so there was a lot of work to do. One call after another was made to organize and gain collective agreement as to the approach. Whose neighborhood would be the target? What costumes would they wear? What pieces would they get at the store and when? Who would front the money and what were the terms of repayment?
The costume she selected days before, that was ultimately adopted by all parties, was a ninja costume. As such, she started to work out the details as to how they were going to coordinate multiple people going to the store at different times to get costumes that would look great together on Halloween. What pieces would serve as the common glue that held the ninjas together? What could they do to differentiate themselves at the same time? What would be the weapon of choice for each girl?
As I was driving (in silence) I looked over from time to time at her. She sat confidently in the passenger seat with her legs crossed and her phone pressed to her head. Her free hand dancing through the air, moving in tandem with her words. She would talk to one friend, then get off the phone only to talk to another friend moments later. She was working the phones, texting details, hatching plans, and organizing a movement all while I sat relegated to the status of “her driver”. I felt like a little Trump was sitting next to me working multi-million dollar deals en route to the office. I was tempted to tell her to get in the backseat so we could really create the proper atmosphere.
I couldn’t help but have a bit of pride creep up over me though. Here was my little girl working out the details of a master plan she spawned with no help from me. Sure I was relegated to a silent partner simply along for the ride, but I was also a proud dad observing what could be future leadership in action.
She was leading the charge. She was working the phones and organizing multiple people at different locations to perform similar tasks to achieve a common goal. She was orchestrating the execution of a plan she had in her head, on the fly, and without the help from…her driver.
I’m hoping this is a glimpse into her future potential. Is leadership an innate skill that simply needs the presence of a problem for it to emerge and flourish? Let your kids lead from time to time. Let them construct and execute their own plan. I’m looking forward to finding out if this was a preview of big things to come for her. If it truly represents a sliver of what the future holds, I hope it only concerns her future. Why? I’m just the driver.
This is great..
I can relate to the radio thing..first time my kids messed with my car radio I didnt know how to react. I was no longer in charge.
LOL…thanks Nate. Yeah, they shouldn’t be messing with our radios. Mess around and get themselves hurt!
I’m a control freak. OK, “FREAK” in all capitals, shouting. My oldest kids knew that touching MY RADIO was verboten. Making plans that involved my driving required days of advance planning. They were to tell me who, what, where, when, why, etc. in written form. It was “just good manners”. Now that half of the eight have left home for college and beyond I’ve discovered that technology has allowed the last four to have a level of interaction and control and AVOIDANCE that has left me standing (and driving) around like an idiot. Sure, there are plenty of drivers in the house, but as busy as my kids are, I’m still running them places, transporting their stuff without them, and generally being their delivery service. This post hit so close to home that I was laughing the entire time.
I’m just glad that somebody else takes pride in the fact their one or more of their kids have outlived Dad’s usefulness…except as transportation. It makes me feel a little bit like there’s still hope for the future! Kind of cool to have amazing kids, eh?
Haha! Yes, we are basically drones for our kids. Maybe I could pitch that to Amazon’s new delivery service. Even though I find myself driving THOUSANDS of miles, of which none are for my own benefit, I still have a TON of fun doing it. Once they are all gone, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll become a taxi driver for old times sake.
I just did two ten-hour round trips to pick up one of my college girls for Thanksgiving. My national level track athletes sat and played video games and watched movies on round trips to Houston, St. Louis, and a 36-hour round-tripper to North Carolina for USATF Junior Olympics this summer.
You’ll still be driving…but the reasons will be more varied and at least half of the drive time is spent alone. I’ve listened to hundreds of hours of podcasts on the road. In fact, that’s why I started blogging, because one podcaster pretty much nagged me into it…at least indirectly.