I spent last Friday morning with my four year-old daughter, Tala, and a pediatric nurse named Anita or Betina who pressure-sprayed this hunk of earwax from the right ear canal of the beautiful changeling seen above.
An unexpected date with destiny for both of us, I was planning to work on a series of photo-related papers; she was gearing up for a heavy day of cartwheels and sunflower butter sandwiches.
These small little things, they feel like your heart exploding. What, earwax? No, an eardrum as your little girl starts to fully grasp this procedure demands Dad hold an oblong spittoon thing firmly against her head until Danita flushes whatever's up there out.
As evidenced in the image above, it is safe to say that we shared a mutual feeling of not enjoying any single minute of it. The delicate bond we've shared since she was a toddler has been increasingly put into question over the course of the last few months as we welcomed the twin wonders of Arno and Zana into the settlement.
It's complicated, but she simply knows when I'm with her and if I'm not.
Rather than have some cartoon dog be a decoy for my daughter's heart, I'd much rather introduce her to Edith Piaf or aid in her transformations. She's done wonders for mine.
Promise to blog soon about recent editorials and advertising projects for Women's Wear Daily, Amazon, Marriot and others.