We took Harper to the first birthday party for her buddy Leo today out in Northern Bergen County, NJ. Suburban USA. While Leo’s folks are hip, the family wasn’t. Everyone there was ex-military, coached wrestling at the local high school and golfed. People kept “complimenting” Harper’s dress. It was only later that I realized it had a pattern made up of vintage tattoos. Lots of skulls, knives, naked hula girls and bottles of rum.
Harper demanded caviar with dinner tonight. As in, full-on screaming, kicking, flailing and wailing until we served her some caviar. The second it was in front of her she smiled like an angel and began popping it into her mouth.
I’m a Dad now and doing my best to live up to it. Still and all, the last two texts I sent were:
"I can get us backstage for Puddles the Sad Clowns show."
"Heard a rumor that Scummo got out on parole, can you confirm?"
That’s the number of names on the invitation list for Harper’s First Birthday Party. I haven’t added any of mine yet.