Turning 21

My daughter is 21 today.
That’s a big deal, turning 21, for parents and their offspring.

It’s scary for both halves of the equation, when families are close. Ours is.

Amylynn has always been the organizer, the one in charge, and the ramrod in a group. When she was little, she used to line up her dolls on her bed and conduct “class” in her bedroom. No telling what she taught them, but she was a quick study herself. We learned quickly to watch what we said—or at least how we said it.

I remember during the Clinton vs Bush-41 campaigns, some of the remarks I made in the privacy of our home were picked up by her alert little ears, and made their way into an impromptu stump speech she delivered—to her dolls—on the front porch of a house during a family holiday gathering. The apex of her imitation rant was an exaggerated series of gestures towards a stand-up cut out of George Washington, whom she mistook for George Bush, punctuated by the phrase, “what a crock. WHAT A CROCK!”

I just happened to be surreptitiously capturing her address on video.
I cherish that snippet of tape today.
I can’t wait for her wedding rehearsal dinner.

Amylynn is quite a negotiator. She’s persistent, too.
Her latest campaign has lasted several months, hounding me for a dog. When I returned to the office this week, there were photos of Yorkie puppies taped to my door. There’s a similar one taped to the refrigerator at home.

It ain’t going to happen, though. No dogs in the house.
Not while she's living there rent-free.
I'm not charging my kids rent.

I am proud of her tenacity, though.
You should see her negotiate with used car dealers.
She and her mother discovered a very clean 2001 Olds Alero coupe a couple of years ago. She haggled and haggled with the salesman. At one point, we even walked out of the office and said, “no deal.”

The next day, Amy drove back over to the dealership, called the salesman out of his office into the showroom and very clearly—and loudly—told him that "he’d better sell her that car for the price we were willing to pay," because she "really wanted the car and knew that her daddy wasn’t going to let her pay a penny more for it, so he might as well just sell it to her."

I got this all from a reliable source—my bride—who was trying to hide behind a floor lamp in the showroom as the scene went down.

She got the car for the asking price. Paid cash.

Amylynn has worked around radio stations, schools, and offices. She always wanted to be a cosmetologist, and recently completed her certification for that goal. She now works part time in the business office of The BizRadioNetwork, and part time for a very nice boutique in our neighborhood, where she is building a clientele.

Funny, they all come out of there looking like dolls.