Our 11-year-old daughter Emma was in a dark mood Thursday morning, and there was nothing I could do to change that fact.
I used to be good at changing Emma’s moods. I used to be good at making her laugh when she really didn’t want to laugh. But lately I’ve sort of hit a mood-changing slump. But because I’m a moron, I keep flailing away. Even though, by now, I have learned when Emma is in a changeable mood and when she’s not.
When Emma came down into the kitchen Thursday, it was pretty obvious she wasn’t happy about something.
“Boy, I’m really not happy about something,” is what Emma said.
Ha. I joke. As most veteran parents know, 11-year-old girls do not come right out and say they are unhappy about something. What they do is frown. They sigh. The stomp. They act irritated. You know, pretty much the way their moms did on their wedding day. Ha.
Thursday morning, a frowning Emma stomped into our kitchen carrying her backpack, her flute and her lunchbox. She set her backpack, lunchbox and flute on the counter and let out a loud sigh. Then she looked at the cat sitting in a chair that Emma wanted to sit in and said, in an irritated tone, “Move, Peanut Butter!” (Peanut Butter is the name of the cat in the chair. Emma was not ordering a jar of peanut butter to move.)
Being a sharp and intuitive parent, I sensed something was wrong and I did what I have recently learned to do: I did nothing.
But after a few minutes I started to feel bad for Emma. After a few minutes I started to think that life is too short for an 11-year-old girl to be in a bad mood. After a few minutes I started to think that years from now Emma would regret wasting precious 11-year-old kid time on a bad mood. So I decided to see what I could do to help change her mood.
“What’s the matter?” I asked Emma.
“I look horrible and none of my outfits are cute,” is what Emma said.
“Whoops, look at the time. We better get going,” is what I said.
Look, I may not be the sharpest dad on the block, but even a dad as clueless as I am knows when to stay and fight and when to run away.
You wouldn’t try to pet a snarling pit bull, would you?
But still, I was conflicted. I don’t like it when Emma is in a bad mood. So against my better judgment I decided to say something to Emma.
“I think you look great,” is what I said.
I knew before the words left my mouth that I had made a mistake. In fact, I tried desperately to reach out and grab the words and stuff them back in my mouth. It didn’t work.
Emma got a look on her face that said “Oh no, that’s just what I need. My dad, who is currently wearing ripped bluejeans and a T-shirt with the year 1998 on it and has hair that looks like a diseased wolverine slept in it thinks I look great. My life is over. I can never be seen in public again.”
It was, I thought, a heck of a look.
Sensing I made a mistake, I tried to think of what I could say to change Emma’s mood. This is what I came up with.
“This weekend your mom will take you shopping,” I said.
Oh, don’t judge me. You would have done the same thing.
Address correspondence to Mike Pound, c/o The Joplin Globe, P.O. Box 7, Joplin, MO 64802, or via e-mail at mpound@joplinglobe.com.
