Late lunch at LJS, chatted awhile before heading up to check out games. Borrowed myself a book. Back to that later.
On the way out of the mall, i caught sight of a seemingly familiar face. She had the same expression as i probably had. As if squinting & peering forward would bring past memories closer. It turned out to be Winnie after all, with Matt's confirmation.
Funny, since prior to meeting her, i wouldn't have blinked an eye even if you pointed to a girl & said Winnie.
Anyway, about the book i chanced upon, "The Tenth Circle" by Jodi Picoult. As far as i've read, it deals with a married mild-mannered man whose daughter is having problems letting go of her ex-boyfriend & whose wife is putting an end to an affair with her student.
Having a father & a teenage daughter in the plot naturally brings along with it, the possessiveness every father has over their daughters especially.
Relate? I scream bloody murder inside each time a girl vixen-s her self up to attract a particular someone which the daughter has so far tried, in order to get her ex back.
It's probably the same for every male. Those girls are good to look at, although not being the target of their attention does raise a few questions about the girl's decency & we sure as hell wish girls we know don't do that for any other guys.
Another link? Parenthood, i have thought of for a long time. The father in the story is close to his girl. After all, he's the homemaker.
I've always wondered; & worried over how i'd bring up my kids. First things first, i haven't the slightest intention on bringing them up the way my parents did with me. Sure, i appreciate a few things that came along with my upbringing. Mainly knowing respect. I don't shoot my mouth off that easily; which keeps me out of trouble.
Back to topic. I ask myself, how friendly do i want to be with my kids. Sure, i'd wish to be their friend, but there had to be a line to be drawn somewhere. At least during their younger years.
Would i be that fun, loving, cool parent? Or would i be that cold, silent statue that bears much to be said in his heart? If i had daughters, how would i keep them on a loose leash? Could i feel confident enough to let them go? What if i squeeze them too tightly?
At this point, allow me to inject a bit of my other personality: counting ones eggs before they hatch; how stupid; how meaningless; how weak; how typical; how hopeful
So you see, a book that connects so intensely, i wonder if i can continue reading it.