Well I never once
Backed down from a punch
Well I'd take it square on the chin
Well I found out fast
A bully's just that
You've got to stand up to him
So I didn't cry when I got a black eye
As bad as it hurt, I just grinned
I remember the first time you had gotten bullied, Stephanie. You had stormed into the house one day after school. I had been cooking dinner in the kitchen, but the sound of my first grader slamming the door got my attention. I remember immediately running into the living room because slamming doors was just something you didn't do, Stef. You have always had this peaceful aura about you like your mother. Slamming doors out of anger was just not you at all. Even when we had to consequence you for being disobedient, which rarley happened, you still didn't slam your door out of anger. You would just softly apologize, kiss your mother's cheek, and walk off to your room. You were always such a calm, laid-back child, so the sound of a door slam was so surprising to me. It definitely wasn't your mother either. You had gotten the whole "no door slamming" thing from Sabrina. Anyways, the loud, shocking sound had me on full alert the second I heard the slam. Just as I had entered the living room though, I remember you had launched yourself into my arms. I remember exactly how I felt while hearing that devastating sound; my little girl sobbing. I remember feeling furious. I remember feeling like my entire insides had just become scorching, boiling water. I was bubbling in anger, princess. I wanted to know the answer to every what and who questionable imaginable.
What happened to my little girl?
Who is responsible for making my little girl sob into my arms?
I remember I had just stood there, holding onto you. The sound of you crying that afternoon still gets to me sometimes, Stef. It wasn't until your cries slowly turned into sniffles that I let go of you though.
When I finally did, I had asked you about what happened. I remember you had looked at me with such an embarrassed expression.
It almost looked like you thought I would be disappointed. "Where's mommy?" You had mumbled.
I had raised my eyebrows at you in confusion, answering. "Stef, mommy went back to the recording studio this morning." I had gently whispered. "She told you that remember?"
I remember you had just stared at me for a second. I could tell you were holding back tears again though.
I had known that because your bottom lip had started to tremble while you stared at me.
As soon as I had opened my mouth to speak though, it was like you broke.
You had started to sob all over again.
It took a long time, but I eventually got you to calm down again.
"Stephanie, what happened?" I had tried again. "Why are you crying?"
You had been sitting on my lap with your legs dangling off the side, eyes closed, as you tried to take deep, controlled breaths.
It was obvious that whatever happened had dug into you.
You had finally answered after a while, stuttering. "I…I showed one of mommy's songs for show and tell." You had explained. "I…I then tried singing to one and," I watched how you had paused, closing your eyes again. It was almost like you were afraid to see my reaction, Stef. You did continue, but you had kept your eyes closed, "and Karli said that…that I sucked." Then your bottom lip had started trembling all over again. Oh, and me? Well, let's just say that I was furious. Wouldn't any dad be?
I remember my brown eyes turned lighter as I looked at you. "Princess," I had grinned at you.
I remember running my fingers through your long, wavy brunette hair, joking. "You have our DNA." Kissing your small forehead, I said, "Sucking at anything is just not in this family's DNA."
Those words had earned me a wide grin. "Yeah," You had giggled. "Cause, we famous."
I remember chuckling, "Eh, we'll go with that."
You had then let out the cutest giggle again. "I love you daddy." You had said to me, hugging onto my neck.
Wrapping my arms around your tiny back, I just grinned. "I love you too, Princess."
Scared me to death
When you took your first steps
And I'd fall every time you fell down
It was just one of those normal afternoons, Stef. Your mom and I weren't counting on anything special to happen. She had been curled up against me, watching the patriots with me. I remember we had you on a soft throw in the middle of the floor.
Even though I was craving to hold you, Sabrina had continued to remind me that you were getting older
I had heard her whisper, "Brads," Then when I looked over at her, she had smiled softly at me.
"Just look at her." Your mom had pointed to you with a sad smile on her face. "She's getting older."
Trust me, Stef. It wasn't the first time she had to remind me either.
And I did look at you, Stephanie. I didn't get up like I wanted too, but I looked down at you on the floor. I had stared at you so intensely, Princess. I remember because you had the end of your pink rattle in your mouth, and you were staring back at your mom and me, smiling. Well, maybe it was more like slobbering, but it was the cutest, most beautiful sight I had ever seen; next to your mother of course. Then I saw it, Stef. As I continued to gaze at you, it was then when I had noticed that familiar twinkle appear in each of your eyes; that same one I saw in your mother whenever she smiled. I had let out a small gasp when I saw it, Princess. Your mom had heard me too.
I know because she had gently raised her hand up to my cheek, murmuring, "She's getting older each day, baby." She had reminded me yet again.
Sabrina had then dropped her hand, and grabbed a hold of my chin with the tip of her fingers.
She had stared directly into my eyes, and whispered, "Stef is still your little girl, but a little girl who needs her playtime." Letting out a chuckle, she had released her hold on my chin. "I mean just look at her rocking those cute jeans, Brad." She had insisted.
You did have jeans on that day, Stef. You had dark-blue jeans on with a pink shirt that displayed a picture of a small, black microphone on the front. Your mom had picked that shirt out, Stef. I was the one who picked out your cute, girly jeans. "Those are jeans, babe, and not some onesie." She had reminded me again.
The fact that I had picked out jeans for you to wear, instead of a cute onesie, didn't tell me that you were getting older though. I had just looked at it as a different clothing choice for my baby girl. Instead of a cute onesie, now it was some cute jeans and a blouse. It didn't matter to me though. I mean nothing had changed to me. You were still my baby girl, but just my baby girl in jeans now. However, I never realized that to your mom, that small change had meant something. To her, that meant you had graduated. To her, you had graduated from a little onesie into some adorable jeans and a blouse. The thing wasn't that I didn't realize it though, Stef. It wasn't even that I wasn't paying attention. It was just that I simply wasn't ready to admit that you were in fact getting older. I was nowhere close to being ready to admit that you did in fact graduate from a little onesie. You did though, Stephanie. I had slowly begun to realize that you weren't my baby girl anymore, but instead my little girl. And…and it hurt, Princess. The change hurt so much. It hurt so much because I knew that another change would happen soon after that one and…and it scared me.
That's why I had looked at your mother with such a serious expression, and said, "Until she learns to walk, she's not any older then when I first held her in my arms in that hospital." I guess the amount of desperation in my tone was enough to stop your mother from correcting me again. She had instead just gently kissed my cheek, squeezing my waist tighter. "Deal." She had said.
However, I…I guess that didn't work for you. Your mother had decided to gift me with some more denial time, but you didn't, Stephanie. The second she had cuddled into me again, you decided to do something that changed my life forever. You…you got onto your little knees before us, and…and just stared at us. However, it almost felt like you were just staring at me. I remember because it almost looked like you were about to take on a dare that I never even gave you. I remember you had squinted your little brown eyes right before it happened. Was it in concentration? Maybe determination? I didn't know. I won't ever know. Your mom seems to think it was determination she saw in you that afternoon though. She said that you were determined to prove me wrong? That you were determined to prove to me that you were in fact getting older? I bet you were, huh? You did prove it, Princess. It wasn't even three seconds after that when you had used up all your strength to rise up onto your small legs.
And the second you were on your two feet, your mom had shot up off the couch. She had kneeled right down by the couch, cooing. "Come to mommy, Stephanie."
You didn't though, Stephanie. You didn't come to her. You had done exactly what I was terrified would happen. You had fallen down right on your little clothed bum. I swear that my knuckles had turned white from how hard I had grasped the remote in my hand in fear. When I didn't hear any noise escape from you, I had jumped off the couch. Your mom held me back from running up to you though, Princess. She knew that if I would've ran up to you, then I would cradled you in my arms again.
"Bradley, she's ok." Sabrina had grabbed my arm, and stared intensely into my eyes.
"She can do this," She had paused, grasping onto my arm tighter, "on her own."
It was how much she believed in you, though, that made me want to believe in you twice as much. I saw it in her gorgeous blue eyes; the amount of courage she had for you. I guess your mom had enough courage for you and her to share with me though. That has to be the only reason why I stopped myself from coming to your rescue. And…and it stung, Stef. It pained me to have to leave you there in the middle of the living room floor alone, but I trusted your mother. I trusted you.
I had kneeled down on my knees beside your mother, opening my arms out to you. 'Princess," I had croaked, "come to daddy."
And somehow you found the strength too. Granted, you took two steps, fell down, took another two steps, before falling back down again, but you made it, Stef. It was then when your mom and I were holding you tight in our arms, both smiling, that I realized something.
You never cried.
And I realized that there was never a need for a rescue because you had rescued yourself.