Daddy’s Little Girl
by
Ken Sieben
“What’s that thing between his legs?” I ask Mommy who is changing the diaper of my brand new baby brother Matt. Daddy had brought Mommy and the baby home from the hospital then picked me up early from day care so I could meet my new
brother for the first time. Matt was born on May 1. I’ll be six on December 2. By the time he’s my age, I’ll be almost twelve. I’ve been asking for a baby brother or sister for as long as I can remember. I just wonder why it took so long. When I first saw him I couldn’t get over how tiny he was. But when Mommy took off his diaper, I was shocked and thought there was something wrong with him.
“That’s his penis, Lisa. That’s what makes Matt a boy. You have a vagina because you’re a girl.”
“Do all boys have things like that?”
“Yes. Boys and men have penises. Girls and women have vaginas.”
“Oh.” I go to the window and look outside at the flowers as I think about this. All at once I remember asking Mommy the same question, when I was about three. My Uncle Paul, who was born when I was a year and a half old, had one, too. I saw it when Mommy was changing his diaper one day when Grandma and Grandpa were away on vacation. Mommy told me the same thing then, but I never saw Mommy or Grandma change Paul’s diaper again, and I guess I forgot. As Mommy lays Matt back in his crib, I say, “All the yellow tulips are open, Mommy. Can we pick some for Matt?”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Flowers always make a room cheerful. Go ask Daddy to help you. And put a sweatshirt on, it’s chillier than it looks outside.” She always says that.
I want to ask her something else—just to make sure—but I’m afraid she’ll get mad and go back to work. She said she’d be on vacation for eight weeks after Matt was born, so I don’t want her to get mad at me. I walk to the bedroom door, turn around, try real hard to get up the nerve, then finally ask, “Does Daddy have a penis?”
“Yes, I just told you that all boys and men have penises.” But Mommy looks worried. I can tell because she takes me by the hand and leads me downstairs to the family room, then asks, “Do you think you’re old enough to learn where babies come from?”
“I already know,” I answer. “Babies grow in their Mommy’s belly, then come out when they’re big enough.” But now I’m afraid there’s more to it than that, that it must have something to do with the pee-thing I just saw on my brother.
“That’s true. You watched Mommy’s belly get bigger and bigger as Matt was growing inside me, and he came out—he was born—two days ago. But I want you to understand how he got started.” Mommy points to six little plants in peat pots in the greenhouse window and asks, “Do you remember helping me plant tomato seeds in March?”
“I guess so.”
“And do you remember how they grew? You looked at the pots every day for more than a week until pairs of tiny green leaves emerged with the split seed attached to one of them. They began to grow, and look how big they are now. In two or three weeks we’ll plant them in the garden and by the end of July we’ll start picking tomatoes.”
“Do I like tomatoes?”
“You like the canned tomatoes Daddy puts in spaghetti sauce. I can smell them cooking right now. But I’m sure you’ll like fresh ones even better. Anyway, it’s like that with people—and dogs and cats, too, and other animals. The male puts his penis into the female’s vagina and plants a seed. Then the seed grows into a baby and comes out when it’s ready. You grew from a seed inside me to a beautiful baby girl. Matt grew into a beautiful baby boy. But since people are much more complicated than tomato plants, it takes much longer than a week or two.”
“How long does it take?”
“For human babies it takes about nine months.”
“But Matt was born on May 1 and I didn’t know you were having him until last January. I was helping Daddy shovel snow and I asked him why you were getting fat and he told me to ask you.” I count off the months on my fingers and add, “That was less than four months ago.”
“But Daddy and I knew about it long before that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we wanted you to notice the changes in my body on your own and ask about them. That’s the best way to learn new things. When you see that something is different, you should try to figure out why. If you can’t, you ask somebody. And that’s just what happened, right?”
“I guess so.”
“No, you know so. You just told me.”
Now she’s really getting mad.
“It’s amazing what a good memory you have.”
No, I guess not.
“Now,” she smiles and says, “let me go on. We keep the tomatoes inside where we water and fertilize them, then plant them outside when they’re big enough to take care of themselves. That’s about two months for tomatoes. But humans need eighteen years to be ready to go out on their own.”
“But weren’t you only seventeen when I was born?”
“That’s right. I was young and foolish and thought I knew everything and could take care of myself. But I made a baby—you—with a man I didn’t love. Grandma had to teach me how to take care of you. I just made another baby—Matt—with Daddy, whom I love very much.” Mommy smiles again and adds, “Lisa, I don’t expect you to understand everything I just told you completely. It’s very complicated. As you grow older I’ll tell you more about it. But if you ever have a question or think you’ve noticed something new or figured something out, just ask me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, run along and pick those pretty yellow tulips so Matt can see them the next time he wakes up.”
“I have a question right now.”
“Go ahead.”
“Who planted the seed that grew into me?”
“You asked me who your biological father is when Daddy Chris asked me to marry him. I thought I explained it then, but I’ll tell you again. He was a man I knew, a friend of sorts, who I dated a few times. I let him plant your seed in me but I didn’t love him the way I love Daddy. We lost touch when you and I went away to college. But now you have Daddy Chris for your father and he loves you very much. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.”
###
“Daddy,” I say as I enter the kitchen where he’s making dinner. He’s the only daddy I know who does the cooking. That’s because he works only a few blocks away and Mommy has to take the ferry boat into New York. I think he’s the best cook in the world. Tonight we’re having spaghetti and meatballs. That’s my favorite.
“Yes, Lisa?”
“Mommy says to ask you to help me cut some tulips for Matt’s room.”
“Sure, that’s a good idea.” He turns off the fire under two pots and adds, “Let me get my sweatshirt. You get yours, too.”
“Okay.” Daddy and Mommy are always worrying I’ll catch a cold. I guess now they’re afraid I’d give it to Matt.
We go to the utility room for our sweatshirts and Daddy grabs the scissors by the blades, the way he taught me to. When we get to the tulip bed in the back yard, he bends over and cuts a big yellow tulip. Then he hands the scissors to me and says, “Now you do it, but make sure the stem is as long as this one.”
I really don’t think I need my sweatshirt, but I won’t complain. So I just take the scissors from his hand and say, “Okay.” I take his tulip and place it alongside another one to measure the stem length, then cut it and hand it to Daddy. He tells me to cut ten more so we have a dozen for the bouquet.
We go back inside and Daddy asks me to pick out a vase. I open the door to the cabinet where Mommy keeps our vases and pick the yellow one. He fills it with water and I put the tulips in. Then he says, “Better let me carry that upstairs, sweetie. It’s heavy.” I go ahead of him to clear a space for the vase on Matt’s dresser. It used to be my dresser, and it was pink, but I got a bigger one for my fifth birthday. Daddy painted my old one blue because blue is the color for boys.
Daddy sets the tulips in the space I cleared and goes back downstairs to finish dinner. He says we’ll be eating in about an hour and that Mommy is sleeping because she’s still very tired from having a baby. I stay in Matt’s room and watch him sleep. He’s so small that I don’t think he’ll be able to play with me for a long, long time.
I just thought of something funny. I got a new dresser for my fifth birthday, but I got Daddy for my fourth. At least that’s what he says because he and Mommy got married the day before. I used to call him “Chris,” but after they were married they wanted me to call him “Daddy.” That sounded funny so I called him “Daddy Chris” at first. But that took too long to say, so pretty soon I was calling him just “Daddy.”
Mommy and Daddy Chris went away for four days after my birthday and I had to stay home with Grandma and Grandpa and Paul, so I didn’t get to play with Daddy for almost a week. When they got back Mommy and I moved into Daddy’s house where I had my very own room. Besides the pink dresser, I had a bed, a desk, a desk chair, a reading chair, and a reading lamp.
Daddy moved into the house in November, but he was too busy at his boat yard to fix anything up. It was dirty and the floors were a mess. But once the boat yard closed for winter, he did the whole house over, one room at a time. And he did mine first. I got to pick out the color so I chose pink walls to match the dresser.
When we lived with Grandpa and Grandma, I had to share a room with Mommy. We slept in the same bed and had to use the same dresser. That was okay when I was little, but I sure liked having my own room after we moved into Daddy’s house. I’m supposed to call it “our” house, but sometimes I forget.
Anyway, Daddy started picking me up from day care at four o’clock instead of six-thirty when Mommy or Grandma used to come for me. That way, I could help him fix up the rooms. He did the cleaning and painting, but I looked through catalogs for furniture and window curtains and stuff. And I helped get dinner ready by setting the table and stirring things.
I loved Chris when he was Mommy’s boyfriend, but I loved my daddy even more.
But now I’m afraid he might love Matt more than me. He’s Matt’s real daddy, and he’s only my stepdaddy. I don’t even know who my real daddy is. I hope they won’t make me call Daddy Chris “stepdaddy.”
###
After a while, I get tired of watching Matt sleep and go into Mommy’s room. I guess she woke up because she’s brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She has pretty hair, long and straight and blond. My hair is blond like hers but curlier. I wish I had hair more like Mommy’s. Matt has only a little hair and it looks curly. I think boys should have short curly hair and girls should have long straight hair.
Mommy sees me in the mirror and smiles. She says, “I just had a nice nap and feel a lot better.” I don’t say anything so she asks, “Do you like your new brother?”
Here’s my chance. “I guess so, but I’m worried about Daddy.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Now that he has a real son, maybe he won’t love me as much. I’m really only his stepdaughter, not his real daughter.”
“But he’s always loved you like a real daughter. He doesn’t see any difference.”
“But I do. He’s not my real father. When Matt grows up he’ll have a real father and I won’t. I don’t think it’s fair.” I think I might start to cry and I don’t want to. All I want is for Mommy to understand how I feel.
She sets the brush down and turns away from the mirror to look at me. She’s still smiling so I guess she’s not mad. She opens her arms and says, “Come here, Lisa, it’s okay.”
I run into her arms and she squeezes me tight. I start to cry and she pats me on the shoulders. “There’s nothing to worry about, Lisa,” she tells me. “Daddy will always be your daddy. Having Matt won’t change the way he feels about you. Have you been worried about this for long?”
“No,” I answer, which is true. “I just started thinking about it while I was watching Matt sleep.”
“It was very thoughtful of you to look after him. I think you’ll be a fine big sister.
But don’t worry about him. He won’t change how Daddy and I feel about you. But I’m glad you told me how you feel. This is just what I want you to do.”
“What?”
“Tell me if you think something is changing, and then we can talk about it. You were worried that Daddy might change because of Matt, so you just told me. I’m trying to assure you that nothing has changed. We can ask Daddy if you want.”
“Won’t he get mad at me?”
“Of course not. He doesn’t want you worrying over something like that. There’s one thing, though, that you need to understand.”
“What?” Now I’m worried again.
“New babies need an awful lot of attention. They can’t do much by themselves. They need to be fed and burped and changed and soothed and held. I’m going to be home for the next eight weeks, but I’ll have to spend most of that time taking care of Matt. I won’t have much time to play with you. Then, when Daddy gets home from work, I’ll be so tired that he’ll have to take care of Matt. It’s probably going to seem that we’re being unfair to you, but we’ll still be thinking of you and loving you. Several of your friends from day care have had little brothers and sisters in the past year. Just ask them what it was like.”
“Okay.”
###
We’re sitting at the kitchen table finishing dinner when Matt starts to cry and Mommy has to go upstairs to feed him. Daddy takes his last forkful of spaghetti. When he’s finished chewing and swallowing, he clears his throat and says, “You know, Lisa, this is going to happen a lot from now on. Matt will start crying and Mommy or I, or both of us, will have to take care of him right away. It doesn’t mean we don’t care about you any more. It’s just that you’re old enough to do most things for yourself and he’s not. We’re going to need your help.”
“I know. Mommy told me already.”
“Mommy also told me you’re worried that I’m going to think of Matt as my real child and you as only a stepchild. I want you to know that I’ll try my best to always think of both of you as my real children. And I want you to tell me if I ever do anything or say anything that hurts your feelings, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And I have an idea that might make you feel better. Mommy and I have discussed it, but we haven’t said anything to you yet. Now I think you’re ready.”
I think Daddy has a surprise for me. “What?” I ask him.
“I could adopt you as my daughter. In the eyes of the law that would make me your legal father, and that’s about as real as I can get. If the law says I’m your father and we have an adoption certificate that makes that clear, then I’m your father—period. You would take my name and be Lisa Powell. Or, if you want, you could be Lisa Martin-Powell, just like Mommy is Carolyn Martin-Powell.”
“What’s Matt’s last name?” I ask.
“I’ll show you his birth certificate.” Daddy gets up and opens Mommy’s purse on the counter. He takes out a piece of paper and shows it to me.
I know how to read names, and I see that Matt is really Matthew Martin Powell. “Martin is his middle name and Powell is his last name,” I say.
“That’s right.”
Mommy comes back into the kitchen holding Matt. She takes a bottle out of the refrigerator and starts to heat it up in a pan of water on the stove. “I already have a middle name,” I say. “I’m Lisa Joan Martin. My middle name is Grandma’s first name.”
“So?” Daddy asks.
“If you’re gonna be my real father, I should have the same last name as my brother. I want to be Lisa Joan Powell.”
Daddy looks at Mommy and she nods her head yes. “Okay, then,” he says. “I’ll call our lawyer tomorrow to get things started. It might take a few weeks, though, so you’ll have time to think about the name.”
I look at Mommy and Matt, then at Daddy. “I want your name, Daddy. I want to be Lisa Joan Powell.”
END
