I knew this day would come

So tonight was the night the young man came to pick up my daughter. As was mandated, there were others there so my daughter was actually let out of the house.

He came into our living room with his friend from out of town and sat down on the sofa. He was a little early, so they sat there as the parents came into the room. I put on my best 'father of the girl' persona and stood there as he sat, asking him questions, trying to get a feel for the guy. He was quiet, a senior, had been working at the hospital in food service and was working with his dad restoring a '72 El Comino.

Some how the conversation got around other subjects and he said:

"What I'm still trying to figure out is, when I have kids, should I show them the Star Wars series in the order they're numbered, or the order they were filmed."

I wasn't expecting something so geeky from a kid with a Camino. That one kind of, um, through me off. I just, uh, well. . .and the next thing I knew they were walking out the door.

Crap. I'll have to practice keeping the Dad face.

The guy aparently paid when they got to the movies (but to keep a low profile he also paid for his friend), so this is the first thing that could be considered an actual date type thing.

I stood there in the bathroom bathing the Little Bear to get him ready for bed, and thought how not that long ago that little wet head belonged to a little girl who was now somewhere in the dark sitting next to the most dreaded force in the universe---a boy.

And she didn't even take her lightsaber. May the Force be with her.