I Gave My Daughter the Curse

When my daughter was about sixteen I gave her the curse. If you don’t know what I’m talking about it goes something like this: “When you have kids, I hope you have one just like you!”

Now when I bestowed this ‘curse’ upon her, it was partly in jest, but mostly as a pay-back for the crap she had been putting me through. I remember when I said it to her. I was standing on the back deck and she was walking through the yard. When the words came out of my mouth she actually had a reaction. Most of the time, no matter what I said, it usually fell on deaf ears. But this, she heard, and became upset. “Why would you say that to me?” she asked. “What’s the problem? You think you’re such a well behaved kid, why wouldn’t you want your children to be just like you?” was my retort.

Years later, after my daughter had married and had children of her own, I wanted to recant that curse. I don’t want my grandchildren to give her a hard time. She’s turned out to be a lovely young woman. She’s a good mother, wife, daughter and friend. She’s my daughter and my friend.

A friend, a daughter, my fraughter.