My blog for the next 3 weeks will be snippets of dialogue between me and my 10-year-old daughter, Rhiannon, who is staying with me in Montreal.
12 July 2011 – 2:30 PM: Montreal Central Station
Me: Hi honey!!!
Rhiannon [standing waiting with VIA Rail Attendant]: You’re late, Daddy!
Me [smugly]: Actually, your train was 15 minutes early so I am, in fact, early!
Rhiannon: There’s this thing called the Internet, Daddy, where you could’ve checked the train schedule.
VIA Rail Attendant [coolly, tapping her foot]: She’s right, you know.
Me [pointing at Rhiannon]: Gaaa! Don’t agree with her! She’s devil’s spawn!
VIA Rail Attendant: I will require one – actually no, make that two – pieces of official ID with your address on it.
Rhiannon: He probably lost his wallet on the way over here.
Me: I did NOT lose my wallet! Here! See!!!
VIA Rail Attendant [meticulously scrutinizing the ID]: Hmmm… okay… you sure this jerk is your father?
Rhiannon [sighing]: Ugh. Yes. Come on, Daddy. Let’s go.
Me [looking over my shoulder at the VIA Rail Attendant]: Okay, what a bitch…
12 July 2011 – 10:35 PM: My Place
Me: Going to bed. ‘Night.
Rhiannon [shoving ‘Life Story’ magazine in my face]: Look at this. Just look at this!!
Me: What the fuck!
Rhiannon: Stop swearing all the time. Selena Gomez!!!
Me: Who the hell is Selena Gomez?!
Rhiannon [incredulously]: Whhhaaaaaaaaat?! You don’t know who Selena Gomez is?
Me: Haven’t the foggiest idea.
Rhiannon [after spending an hour explaining the life story of Selena Gomez]: And she’s dating that asshole Justin Bieber.
Me: Watch your mouth!
Rhiannon: Look at this picture! Look! He’s trying to kiss her but she’s clearly leaning away from him. Can’t he see that she just doesn’t like him?!
Me: What exactly is you problem with Justin Bieber anyway? You really can’t stand that guy.
Rhiannon: Daddy, he is such a geek and he’s just… just… gross. Selena Gomez can do WAY better than him…
Me: You’re right! She could be with me!
Rhiannon: Pwaaaaahahaaaaaaahaaaaaaa! Ha! I mean – HA!!!!!!!!!
Me: Good night, Rhiannon.
Rhiannon: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!
13 July 2011 – 1:45 PM – Labyrinth
Rhiannon: This is so cool!
Me: I’m going to be sick…
Rhiannon: What’s your problem?
Me [curled up in a ball on the floor, quivering]: Claustrophobia!
Rhiannon: Man up, Daddy!
Me: Man up? Who taught you that phrase?
Me: Oh, God.
Rhiannon: Are you sucking your thumb?
Me: No, just pretending to.
Rhiannon: Why do you hate Mummy so much?
Me: I don’t hate her, honey. I just find her… well… let’s say – I feel the same way about her as you do about Justin what’s-his-face.
Me: Because she’s annoying.
Me: What do you mean “why”? That was a statement of fact!
Rhiannon: What do you mean “a statement of fact”?
Me: A “statement of fact” is something that is verifiably true.
Rhiannon: What does “verifiably” mean?
Me [smacking Rhiannon in the back of the head]: Did that hurt?
Me: I have just verified that smacks to the back of the head hurt. Do you want me to now verify that Mummy is a jerk?
Rhiannon: You’re a jerk, Daddy.
Me: You better verify that allegation!
14 July 2011 – 2:43 PM – Granby Zoo
Me: Look at that gorilla, honey!
Rhiannon: He reminds me of you.
Rhiannon: Big. Ugly. Rude. Smells bad. Drags his knuckles on the ground when he walks. You figure it out.
Me: Man, that stings.
Rhiannon: Well, you’re not as gross as the hippos, at least.
Me: But you love the hippos!!!
Rhiannon: True – but they’re gross. They eat their own shit.
Rhiannon: Okay, fine – you don’t eat your own shit. But you’re definitely gross.
Me: I feel so much better now.