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Brandon P. Duncan

Maker of mischief. Teller of stories.

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You are here: Home / Original Short Fiction / They don’t work, daddy…

They don’t work, daddy…

Published on April 26, 2020Filed Under: Original Short Fiction Tagged With: General fiction, Memoir

 

Red Dress ClubThis week’s ‘Red Writing Hood’ assignment was: Do you know what you want most? Does your character? Write a piece of 600 words or less… If this is your first time reading one of my prompted TRDC stories, I encourage you to go visit The Red Dress Club website for details on this writing club.

As always, I welcome constructive criticism.

~~~

Her hands had been losing the tell-tale chubbiness for some time. Her teeth had all come in. Running was no longer a challenge; it was the preferred method of transportation when my shoulders weren’t available. She was beginning to ‘collect’ rather than ‘amass’. The little thing was growing up well—too fast, but well.

We hoped that her toys would start making their way into the more sophisticated shapes of Barbie-styled dolls and wished almost daily not to be assaulted by primary colors when we entered her room. Yet, despite all of that, it was hard to watch. Of course they can’t stay too little for too long, but our selfish sides longed for just one more day of sweet breath and pristine innocence.

Instead, she became enthralled with Polly Pockets and other micro-dolls. Maybe she simply thought they were cute. Maybe she needed to feel equivocally larger than the items she controlled. After all, engaging with me normally involved having to crane her neck as high as she could or waiting for me to lumber down to her level. Her 3 and 4T pants were still too long for her legs. I stood six feet even.

We did everything we could to steer her from them. We offered up packages containing sequined ball gowns and tiaras. We attempted to explain that the statuesque, All-American girl would be easier to keep track of. Not a chance.

And so it became a daily, emotionally taxing ritual. She would tootle off to play. We would enjoy the silence—briefly…

It usually started with a grunt or a sigh. It got louder. And louder still. Then the tension could be heard. The chagrin began to manifest. Then anger; normally accompanied by tears. I tried not to interfere. She needed to learn. I would let it get so far, then, as I could hear everything begin to bubble over, I would go check on her—if she had not already come to me, tear-streaked and red-faced.

“The clothes won’t work, daddy…” she managed through her anger—her tone scornful and bordering disrespect.

“It does work. I have shown you a hundred times…” I always replied—often frustrated at her frustration. “You have to move her arms like this, and then put it on…” I demonstrated. “You need to settle down or put them away and do something else.”

“NO, DADDY!”

“Well then you need to figure this out. If you do it like I told you, it will work. If you get frustrated and mad like this, then you don’t need to play with these or get any more.”

“Ok, daddy.”

She would sniffle once or twice more and run off to her room again to continue playing—to continue trying so hard to feel like she was becoming a big girl, but being held back by situations beyond her control. She just didn’t possess the understanding that regardless of her love for them, her dexterity had not yet caught up to her vision of how the world and all the little things in it should work for her.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Please leave comments below or email me your thoughts on this piece or my writing in general. If you have a few extra clicks left in you, I’d appreciate you liking my blog’s Facebook page and following me on Twitter.

Written by BrandonPDuncan. There are 18 Comments. Leave one too! I love to chat.

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Comments

  1. Galit Breen says

    June 2, 2011 at 23:34

    As a Mama of three children who keep getting bigger every time I blink, I get the fleeting, the selfish wanting to keep them little. It hurts a bit, doesn’t it?

    And since 2 out of 3 of my sweeties are girls, oh man, do I feel your pain with the Pollys! Also? your daughter is right, those clothes *are* hard to put on! 🙂

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 2, 2011 at 23:44

      Yes, indeed it does.

      And yes, I know, those damn Polly Pockets were a pain in my ass (and occasionally my feet). I couldn’t tell you how many little dresses and shirts I ripped in half by accident, LOL!

      Thanks for stopping by, Galit!

      Reply
  2. Victoria KP says

    June 3, 2011 at 07:31

    I hear you! The toys in this house keep getting smaller and smaller–Mega Blocks, then Duplo, and now Lego. Lots and lots of TINY pieces to lose and fumble with.

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:40

      I didn’t mind the piles of the little toys. We kept little tubs for her to keep them in, it was the fact that she couldn’t manuever them yet and would get SO mad! I started cringing every time she saw a new ‘little’ thing… ugh! 🙂

      Reply
  3. Christine @ quasiagitato says

    June 3, 2011 at 07:37

    This is so beautifully expressed. All the love and the wishes and the needing to do for herself and the frustration on everyone’s part when it’s hard…it all comes through so nicely.
    And toy soldiers hurt your feet, too. And tiny lego pieces. Plastic should be softer.

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:41

      Thank you so much! I enjoy meeting new people.

      I appreciate you stopping by to read this!

      Yes, I agree. Plastic should be MUCH softer, lol!

      Reply
  4. Elisa says

    June 3, 2011 at 09:06

    This struck a chord with me because I’m constantly looking at my 10 year old daughter play with her ITouch and ask me if she can sleep at a friend’s house. She used to play with Polly Pockets and Disney Princesses. A word of advice – don’t rush into the American Girl Doll world. They are great stories for older kids. I introduced it too early and now she is not interested – even though she is at the perfect age for it.

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:45

      She’s had one of them for a while (I think it’s a knockoff… shhhhhh…) but she isn’t very good with their hair, so her interest somewhat ebbed and flowed from the start.

      In the piece, I was actually referencing Barbie again (we had a TON of them in the house already.) Same difference though. I just wanted her to get into something BIGGER, lol!

      Reply
  5. Carrie says

    June 3, 2011 at 10:30

    note to self: no Polly Pockets yet!! Knowing my youngest, she’d chew them or swallow a piece. That kid cannot keep anything out of her mouth!!

    I can completely relate with your frustration over her frustration. You want to help but after the 10th, 100th, 1000th time…argh 🙂

    Visiting from RDC

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:47

      No, don’t. Seriously. Use the FIFO method and stick with larger sized toys. You will thank yourself later.

      And those clothes are stretchy and tempting. My kid ate a shoe. It will happen. 🙂

      Reply
  6. Melanie says

    June 3, 2011 at 12:53

    Sweet. Sweet.

    So well written. I could totally picture the frustration on your daughter’s face – that red face. I could definitely hear clearly that scornful tone bordering on disrespect. Maybe it’s because I too have kiddos her age now (boys) and my 3 year old responds like her when he can’t get things to work like he wants them too. But I know mostly it’s because of your writing – which in this piece is strong and beautiful.

    Good stuff!

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:48

      Hey, you! Long time no see! How have you been?

      Thank you so much for the critique of my writing! Stop by anytime! 🙂

      Reply
  7. Kir says

    June 3, 2011 at 13:11

    I really liked this, it spoke to me in so many ways. My twins are 3 and they want so much more than their bodies and minds will allow right now. It leads to so many frustrations, tantrums and then realization and more tears and tantrums of course (but then they are mine 😉

    what a great way to share this simple act of growing up, it was a wonderful description of a magical and confusing time for all of us with small kiddos.

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 15:50

      Thank you! I have twins also, though I didn’t/don’t get as much time with them as I have wanted. I will warn you, they—are—sneaky!!!

      Wait till they start trading clothes and standing up for each other (to teachers, daycare workers, store clerks…lol!)

      Thanks for the comment!

      Reply
  8. Jack says

    June 3, 2011 at 16:31

    They grow far too quickly and become independent far too soon. Ok, some of that is good but I wouldn’t mind if they slowed down a bit. This next part really caught my eye because it described my daughter

    . She just didn’t possess the understanding that regardless of her love for them, her dexterity had not yet caught up to her vision of how the world and all the little things in it should work for her.

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 18:21

      I’m sure it was as frustrating for you to watch as it was me. Poor things. They want to do it so bad, but just can’t quite get it.

      Reply
  9. Renee says

    June 3, 2011 at 17:11

    Thank goodness my daughter had Barbie. The My Little Ponies weren’t awful either. And I love that at her age of 27 with 2 kids of her own, she still loves Hello Kitty.
    Now it’s the Grandbabies to pick toys for. Grandchildren are the reward for letting your own kids live. “snort”

    Reply
    • Brandon says

      June 3, 2011 at 19:44

      We had both of those also. She still insisted on the little things. I liked the ponies the best. VERY low maintenance. No extra clothes and all that.

      Hello Kitty… IS EVERYWHERE IN THIS HOUSE… the youngest all the way through my wife. Oh well. Could be worse. Rainbow Brite or something, lol!

      As for grandkids… yeah. We’re waiting for that one. I hope she works on school and work first, but… well… yeah…

      Reply

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