You’re Not a Pole Dancer, Dear

In honor of Father’s Day I wanted to write a little something in praise of my own dad.

It’s kind of a story within a story, so bear with me – it has a great ending. 🙂

Before I begin though, you need to know one thing.

I do not go anywhere – and I am not even kidding when I say anywhere (aka to the gym, on a walk, to the grocery store, even just to the gas station to fill up the tank) – I do not go ANYWHERE without wearing glitter.

I buy little pots of loose glitter at Claire’s for a couple of bucks and then every morning after I wash my face, I pour dab a truckload bit on my eyelids, under my eyes, and all over my chest.

I love wearing glitter.

Here are my reasons.

1. It’s fun.
2. It’s magical.
3. When I was teaching it helped my students keep their eyes on me.
4. It’s fun.
5. When I see kids at the mall or grocery store they think I am a fairy and can’t stop staring at me and I kind of like the attention.
6. Since becoming a mom I don’t get to shower as much as I used to so I find that people are so distracted looking at my glitter that they don’t see my oily hair.
7. It’s fun.

Now you’re ready for the story…

About 6 years ago when the Happy Hubby and I were in our season of infertility and countless doctor visits to find out what might be wrong, one particular doctor made a comment that has stayed with me ever since.

Partly because it’s so funny, partly because it is absolutely ridiculous, and partly because I am reminded of it daily whenever I look in the mirror.

I was sitting in the doctor’s office and he was asking me all kinds of standard questions about my health and I was giving him all kinds of answers that weren’t helping him to diagnose our problem.

Finally, he put his pen down and asked his nurse’s assistant to close his office door.

I started to get nervous at that point.

When the door was closed and an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the doctor leaned toward me and asked very seriously:

“Are you a stripper?”

My jaw literally fell to the floor.

He continued:

“Or perhaps a pole dancer?”

“What makes you think that, Doctor?” I asked totally shocked.  I glanced down at my outfit to see if I was wearing anything scandalous (I wasn’t.  A turtleneck and loose-fitting khakis).

He peered at me over his thick-rimmed glasses, “You are wearing a lot of glitter.”

My hands flew up to my face.

That was it?  Glitter=stripper?

Is this what everyone else was thinking when they saw me?

Well, I was not and am not a stripper or a pole dancer, I just really like sparkling (see detailed reasons above).

We didn’t go back to that doctor again.

Fast forward 6 years…

The Happy Buddy and I were out to lunch with my mom and dad.

The Happy Buddy was throwing french fries and ketchup around the room while my parents and I chatted about life and other things.

Out of the corner of my eye I kept noticing an older man staring at me from his booth in the restaurant.

I mentioned it to my parents and said, “He probably thinks I am a pole dancer.”

My dad’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, “A what?!”

I proceeded to tell my dad the whole story about what the doctor had said to me that fateful day in his office.

When the story was finished my dad looked at me with all the joy and pride only a daddy can muster and he said very confidently:

“You’re not a pole dancer, dear.  You are a princess.”

🙂

Thank you, Dad, for the last 28 years of feeling like a princess.

I love you.