Dad, Can I Have A Car?

The “Like I’m Not Even Kidding” twelve year old female has recently grown to the point at which her nineteen year old sister refers to her as The Amazon.

It must be difficult being six years older than your younger sister and looking up to her.

I would contend that it is not nearly as difficult as living in the same house with both of them and their maternal referee, but it still must have its challenges. Mars/Venus, Apples/Oranges..

Four or five years ago during an epic knock down drag out, the current nineteen year old was asked then “Why are you being so difficult?”

She quickly unleashed her reply “You think I am being DIFFICULT? You think this is bad? Do YOU? DO YOU REALLY?”. My inner monologue responded “Hell yes” as I just continued my glare. The elder daughter shot her index finger (whew) towards her younger and then shorter sister (seated with her arms crossed and nostrils flaring) saying “Because you have NO idea what is on the way! If you can’t handle me, there is NO way you will ever deal with HER!”

The boys blissfully retired to what we call The Bunker Room (Big Couch+Big Screen HDTV+ Big Refrigerator) surfacing a couple of hours later to bravely ask, “What was that all about?” Boys, I have no idea.

Still don’t.

Fast forward to two days ago as The Amazon (reminder – the twelve year old) and I were on our way to her volleyball practice, when she sweetly asked me “Dad, Can I Have A Car?”

I answered, “Sure.”

Amazon – “Really? Can I have a VW Bug?”

Dad – “Yup.”

Amazon – “You’re serious? I can have a VW Bug?”

Dad – “Like I’m not even kidding.”

At this point, she has no clue that the hook is firmly set in her mouth as she is about to get yanked into the boat.

Dad – “Go for it, sweetie. Buy yourself a VW Bug.”

Amazon – “No dad, I’m serious. I really want a VW bug. Mary has a car. Why can’t I have a car?”

Dad – “Mary drives either the minivan or the gray car, whatever that thing is”

Amazon – “It’s silver and a Malibu”

Dad – “We have a Malibu? No kidding…Well, it’s not hers”

Amazon – “Dad, I’m being totally serious…I want a car.”

Dad – “No.”

Amazon – “WHY NOT?”

Dad – “You’re twelve”

Amazon – “Ok. How about when I am sixteen? Can I have a car then?”

Dad – “Sure. Better start saving your money now though.”

Amazon – “You’re making mad.”

Dad – “Why? I said you could have a car.”

Amazon – “You’re doing this on PURPOSE!”

Dad – “With”

Amazon – “With WHAT?”

Dad – “Purpose. With Purpose…I am doing this with a purpose.”

Amazon – “What. EVER. Can I have a tattoo?”

Dad – “Hell no.”

Amazon – “Why not?”

Dad – “When you’re eighteen and use your own money, you can get a tattoo.”

Amazon – “So you’ll be okay if I get a tattoo when I’m eighteen?”

Dad – “Hell no”

Amazon – “I just feel that if I did get a tattoo, that you would love me less.”

Dad – “Poo Boo, that’s impossible. I could never love you less. Or more. Never.”

Amazon – as she got out of the car “Okay. Well, I need to be picked up at 7:45.”

Dad – with a solid 98 on the outside thermometer – “Slurpee after practice?”

Amazon – looking in the ajar passenger door – “Duh…”

Dad – “Love you Poo Boo.”

Amazon – trying to contain her growing smile “…whatever.”

She arrived home around 8:30 with a Massive Mayor Mike Bloomberg That’s a NO NO Sized Slurpee having been picked up by the Referee in the Referee’s Minivan.


We are now at DEFCON ONE. Cocked Pistol. Nuclear War is Imminent. Mayan Apocalypse.

She left it at the then closed gym. No phone for an entire day. She dealt with it – eventually.

But it was her mistake. She did that.

No one else did that. And she took responsibility for it.

Romney/Amazon 2012almost thirteen!

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Chris Saxman

About Chris Saxman

Father of four, small business leader, retired politician, and Executive Committee member and former Chairman of an international trade association, Chris Saxman delivers strategy and insight as a political coach and keynote speaker. Contact Chris.

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