Daddy, M.D.

the pimp chronicles




DISCLAIMER: In this writing I talk mostly about how much I love Chloe. If that bores you, (aka. you have a penis?), feel free to talk about these killer tones!


I thought I made it crystal clear to Chloé that I loved her. She wouldn’t actually ever doubt something so fundamental to our relationship, would she?


After all, I do tell Chloé that I love her many times every single day. It’s that kind of love that doesn’t go away and so bona fide in how feels to me that it would be a dirty stinkin’ crime not to let fuckin’ the kid know, right? If I can tell all you assholes how I feel about her, you better snap yourself into a slim jim that I tell her too. I'd be a real fuckup to keep this all a secret.


Well, Chloé recently had an public temper tantrum a month or two ago. After Little Miss Diablo’s cries became whimpers and my yelling subsided, Daddy Dearest sat down next to her bed to talk. I immediately got this question:


“Daddy, do you still love me even though I was bad?”


My jaw almost dropped. This is the first time as I can recall hat she seriously questioned that.


Well of course I made it very known to her that our love never goes away, no. matter. what.


And I will NEVER forget that look on her face after I immediately squashed the tiny bit of doubt that slipped into her tiny mind. Never forget. As soon as the first word of reassurance came out of my mouth, the corners of her mouth went right to the most innocent and happy smile she ever sported. You could just feel the relief as she wiped her eyes that were still wet from crying. Then she moved over to me and hugged me real tight and said something just like this:


“Oh Daddy! Our love never goes away, EVER EVER! Right Daddy?”


But this time when she asked “Right Daddy?”, it was rhetorical, as it always is when she asks that.


You know when thinking about this experience now, I can’t help but think of it as my daughter’s heart somehow fell on the floor. How does a heart leave the body and fall on the floor without a visable open wound you ask? The fuck if I know.


But I seized this moment motherfucker. With her heart so fragile and open as to be just laying on the carpet among her toys, I was given the opportunity to crush it or even kick it if I wanted to prove the point of how mad I was. Or even accidentally step on it? Any wrong move and I would have caused irreplaceable damage to her entire being forever!


Good thing I'm not a fucking dumbshit. I VERY carefully picked it up and placed it back in her chest. I sew up her heart so super tight that there's no way it could fall out again. I locked that heart inside her the way only a strong Daddy can do it. I performed successful open heart surgery on my kid right on the spot.


Are there conditions for the love of your children? If your kid let’s say turned out to be gay when they grew up, would you be okay with such a notion? Or a drug addict? Or in fact just thinks your precious Jesus is a fictional piece of shit so they decided to worship Satan instead.


Could these scenarios or any situation occur that would cause you to turn your back on your children? Is your love truly unconditional? And if not, how do feel about that?

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Taken on May 9, 2010