My friend’s mother once gave me some solid advice: A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. While I do not want to put men down, I find both humor and depth in these words. For this reason, I want to dedicate this post, using it to celebrate the sweetest, most beautiful, badass female I know: my daughter. Jammy. The Great Jambino.
Jammy is five now (almost five and a half, folks) and she is so dope. Lemme tell you, this girl knows who she is, what she’s about, and what she wants, make no mistake. At a birthday party we attended a couple months ago, she absolutely schooled kids twice her age in order to sit by the birthday girl. She wasn’t mean about it, but firm. She refused to sacrifice her seat for the young plebeian who sought to usurp her and I couldn’t help but feel a little pride at watching Il Duce at work.
Another way in which my daughter is far cooler than I? She corresponds with Queen Elizabeth. That’s right. She’s pen pals with the effing Queen of England. The kid can’t even read and she’s already sending mail to Buckingham Palace. Earlier this month, she made me research Lizzie’s eye color and even her favorite color so that she (Jammy) could more accurately incorporate this trivia in a picture she was making for Her Royal Majesty. Once she dictated her letter to me, she included her own signature, and a few additional flourishes to make it “more royal”.
Jammy’s interest in politics and dignitaries isn’t limited to the monarchy, however. At age three, she came to me, decked out in her signature tutu, and soundlyrequested commanded that I “do her hair like Donald Trump”. Confounded, I did my best to transform my strikingly gorgeous daughter into this:
Armed with her new comb-over, she then began doing her best impressions of the 45th president, complete with accurate fish face and hand gestures. She did the very same pose you see above. It was eerie. And hysterical.
Just today, Jammy was bragging about her wealth, claiming that she is richer than Habibi and me. Technically, she is correct. She lost two teeth last week and we have car payments, credit card bills, and student loan debt that actually leave us in the hole. So there’s that...
But for all her wisdom and prowess, The Great Jambino reminds us (on occasion) that she is still a little girl. A month or so ago, she timidly approached me with a question with which I could tell she was really wrestling. Our conversation went something like this:
Ummi: What’s on your mind, kiddo?
Jammy: Well, I have a question.
Ummi: What is it?
Jammy: I don’t want to ask you because you might laugh at me.
Ummi: Oh sweetie, I promise I won’t laugh
Jammy: Well, were we slaves in Egypt? [We had recently read the story of Moses.]
Ummi: Goodness no, honey! We were never slaves in Egypt. What made you wonder about that?
Jammy: Well, you’re just so old and you’ve lived through so much that I thought you might remember.
At this point, I did have to stifle a laugh. JUST HOW OLD DOES SHE THINK I AM?!?!?!
Jammy amazes me. All parents say this about their children, but she truly has an insight that I don’t see in others. Her imagination astounds me. She is strong-willed, bold, occasionally bashful, but usually quite precocious. Her wit and humor are that of one much more mature than she, but her childish wonder and fascination with the world around her serve as reminders that she has only been on this earth for a few short years. I am clearly biased, but her outward beauty is truly stunning: olive skin, bright blonde hair, big blue eyes framed by long dark lashes... But the inner beauty -the childlike simplicity of her worldview- is what makes her my Jammy. She is temperamental but kindhearted, jealous yet generous, volatile but compassionate, obnoxious but helpful. Just when I think I have her figured out, she baffles me again.
I don’t worry about whether or not she will be successful in this world. With her determination, inquisitive mind, and intelligence, she will be more than I could ever hope to become. After all, fish don’t need bicycles.
Jammy is five now (almost five and a half, folks) and she is so dope. Lemme tell you, this girl knows who she is, what she’s about, and what she wants, make no mistake. At a birthday party we attended a couple months ago, she absolutely schooled kids twice her age in order to sit by the birthday girl. She wasn’t mean about it, but firm. She refused to sacrifice her seat for the young plebeian who sought to usurp her and I couldn’t help but feel a little pride at watching Il Duce at work.
Another way in which my daughter is far cooler than I? She corresponds with Queen Elizabeth. That’s right. She’s pen pals with the effing Queen of England. The kid can’t even read and she’s already sending mail to Buckingham Palace. Earlier this month, she made me research Lizzie’s eye color and even her favorite color so that she (Jammy) could more accurately incorporate this trivia in a picture she was making for Her Royal Majesty. Once she dictated her letter to me, she included her own signature, and a few additional flourishes to make it “more royal”.
Jammy’s new bestie
Jammy’s interest in politics and dignitaries isn’t limited to the monarchy, however. At age three, she came to me, decked out in her signature tutu, and soundly
Armed with her new comb-over, she then began doing her best impressions of the 45th president, complete with accurate fish face and hand gestures. She did the very same pose you see above. It was eerie. And hysterical.
Just today, Jammy was bragging about her wealth, claiming that she is richer than Habibi and me. Technically, she is correct. She lost two teeth last week and we have car payments, credit card bills, and student loan debt that actually leave us in the hole. So there’s that...
But for all her wisdom and prowess, The Great Jambino reminds us (on occasion) that she is still a little girl. A month or so ago, she timidly approached me with a question with which I could tell she was really wrestling. Our conversation went something like this:
Ummi: What’s on your mind, kiddo?
Jammy: Well, I have a question.
Ummi: What is it?
Jammy: I don’t want to ask you because you might laugh at me.
Ummi: Oh sweetie, I promise I won’t laugh
Jammy: Well, were we slaves in Egypt? [We had recently read the story of Moses.]
Ummi: Goodness no, honey! We were never slaves in Egypt. What made you wonder about that?
Jammy: Well, you’re just so old and you’ve lived through so much that I thought you might remember.
At this point, I did have to stifle a laugh. JUST HOW OLD DOES SHE THINK I AM?!?!?!
Jammy amazes me. All parents say this about their children, but she truly has an insight that I don’t see in others. Her imagination astounds me. She is strong-willed, bold, occasionally bashful, but usually quite precocious. Her wit and humor are that of one much more mature than she, but her childish wonder and fascination with the world around her serve as reminders that she has only been on this earth for a few short years. I am clearly biased, but her outward beauty is truly stunning: olive skin, bright blonde hair, big blue eyes framed by long dark lashes... But the inner beauty -the childlike simplicity of her worldview- is what makes her my Jammy. She is temperamental but kindhearted, jealous yet generous, volatile but compassionate, obnoxious but helpful. Just when I think I have her figured out, she baffles me again.
I don’t worry about whether or not she will be successful in this world. With her determination, inquisitive mind, and intelligence, she will be more than I could ever hope to become. After all, fish don’t need bicycles.
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