If You Dance With My Daughter, Leave Room for a Very Large Jesus Between You

Not every father gets to spend as much time with his kids as I do with the schedule I have as a teacher. Part of that reason is because my daughter, McK, attends the very school where I teach.

She’s a full-fledged teenager. Has her friends. Takes classes. Has her friends. Spends time on the phone. Has her friends. Does some binge-watching on Netflix. Has her friends.

And some of those friends are male.

When she was born (literally five minutes after she was born), my wife looked straight at me and told me that every man McK may ever consider dating, she would probably compare to me.

I am balding and a little heavier than I was. I imagine my daughter having an easier time making that comparison. But what my wife was really referring to was how I treat women and those whom I love and associate with.

McK looks like her mother. And while I can bemoan that fact because that means she will catch the eyes of many a boy, McK also talks to her mother. And I feel good about that.

But that won’t stop me from having this put on a poster in my room at school and in every classroom that McK takes a class in.



And while I am still a teacher at her school, I will be on prom duty.

And I will be watching.