Sometimes, it sounded like an accusation, and I needed to put on my boxing gloves, and sometimes, it sounded like a compliment, and I smiled like a hyena.

What does that really mean, though? Does it mean I will choose my dad’s side over any other male’s side, or does it mean I love my dad more than my mom?

When I was a child, I thought it meant the latter and when my aunt, by my dad’s side, said, “Everyone knows that you’re a Daddy’s Girl,” right in front of my mom, I was horrified and I cried out, “I’m a Mommy’s Girl too. I love my mom, too.”

The others in the room laughed, and my mom pulled me close and whispered, “I love you too, Sweetheart.”

Later that night, I asked her what Daddy’s Girl meant, and she explained to me that it simply meant that I was emotionally close to my dad and he to me. I didn’t quite understand what she meant because I was his only child, so why wouldn’t we be close? Besides, I was her only child, too! The entire thing did not make any sense to me because all I knew was that I loved both of my parents.

About a month ago, the company hired a new person, Roslyn, at work, and although we did not immediately hit it off, by the end of the week, we were having lunch together in the lunchroom.

“Are you a Daddy’s Girl?” Roslyn asked, looking at me over her restaurant’s pizza.

Do I need my boxing gloves, or should I take that page from the hyenas?

Instead, I asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Because whenever I spot them, I avoid them.”


“Because my ex-best friend of ten years was one, and I saw how she would manipulate her dad into getting whatever she wanted.”

Rosyln was in her early thirties, and the purchased hair that touched her shoulders went well with her rounded face and cheeks. She wore black low heels and a light blue and white skirt suit.

I wore black pants, the company’s red and yellow polo shirt, and my curly hair, which I also purchased, ended at my neck.

“Don’t take this as rudeness, still, so? That’s between her and her dad.”

Roslyn bit into the pizza. She chewed and answered, “That’s what I used to say, but then she started using manipulative tactics on the guys we interacted with.”

“I see,” I replied, chewing my homemade leftover pizza.

“Nope,” Roslyn said, “you don’t see it yet. I didn’t think this was my business, too, but I should have because she started turning it on my boyfriend of three months!”

“Okay,” I said.

“And before I knew it, they were seeing each other behind my back, and now, they have been dating for two years, and they are engaged to be married next year.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, frowning to express sadness, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be because I’m good, and I said good riddance to both; just don’t be a Daddy’s Girl, okay.” She smiled broadly at me.

I should have replied that I don’t think being a Daddy’s Girl is to be blamed or say something else. Instead, I returned her smile and said, “Okay.”

The End

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