If you’ve ever seen my daughter and me together, you’ve instantly known we’re related. Hair, eyes, freckles, mannerisms, and even temper make it clear Rhyley is my daughter.
As any parent who has passed down genetics, I am proud of many of her qualities, and in other cases I feel bad for her, knowing she is stuck with some of them.
She is a great kid, and in most cases our similarities help us get along very well, but in some cases we’re just two stubborn redheads battling it out over who knows what. Those ones don’t usually end well and Chenoa has to step in to referee.
She is funny, kind, and somewhat adventurous, all things I love. I also have lousy hearing and poor eyesight which she is stuck with for life and I hate that I’ve done this to her, but she is stubborn and driven, so these things don’t seem to bother her at all. (tough kid)
I figured that was the end of the bad genes I’d passed onto her, and as she grows and matures, I thought I was out of the woods. She just might turn out better than me, which is any parent’s hope right?
Then last week, after a few days of work at the shop, Swicked paid her wages and I wondered what she would do with the money. Savings account, buy more supplies for her little jewelry business, blow it on junk food, buy new clothes, or put it towards our summer vacation?
Nope, none of the above. Instead, she decided that all of her hard earned cash was going towards a new carbon handlebar for her mountain bike. Damn, who knew that disease was genetic?
Well, she’ll be broke most of her life, but she’ll sure have nice bikes … Just like her Daddy.
I’m James Durand and I’m Goin’ Ridin’…