Sometimes you have to just laugh at yourself. Today was one of those days....full of errands, and a date with my youngest daughter. Actually, the day has gone fairly well so far, with the exception of a few humorous faux pas on my part. This morning, I asked my 7-year old what she wanted to do today. Bowling, she replied...Bowling! I thought, hey that sounds like fun. Being the fashion conscious girl she is, she dressed up in the coolest outfit with matching sandals. This was not a bowling outfit mind you...but a full scale hip-woman ensemble. Being the smart dad I am, I reminded her to bring a pair of socks to bowl in.

We first stopped for something to eat before the big bowling event. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking, Hmm, is it my imagination, or am getting looks today? Oh well, must be my cool side kick. After gloating a bit about romping my 7-year old at bowling, we needed to buy me a sports coat. See, I am off to NY tomorrow for a business meeting, and since I never leave the house...I had nothing important to wear. I arrive at a local tailor where I had previously had some shirts made. For some reason the lady who helped me before remembered who I was. She was suspiciously eager to assist me. Again, I though wow! After being slightly accosted under the guise of making sure the coat fit correctly, she introduced me to the tailor. Feeling guilty for waiting until the last minute, and not coming in last week for a coat (see I leave tomorrow). I try and apologize by saying "sorry for Shanghaiing you today" ... the second it was out of my mouth, I notice the little Oriental man was not amused. I hope that doesn't mean anything! The coat will probably have "kick me" sewn on the back when I pick it up later today.

OK, time for a haircut...I arrive at a slightly crowded hair place. I use the word "place" as it is one of those chains that doesn't really qualify as a salon. A kind woman places us both on the wait list, a few seconds later, my daughter is in a chair. I sit patiently waiting in the lobby, guessing at which stylist was going to do my hair. Hmm, will it be one of the six woman...or will it be the one 6'5" dude. I just would rather have a woman caress my head. I begin to silently pray..."please don't be the guy", "please don't be the guy"! ...when I hear a freakishly low voice call out "Eddie?" I sheepishly walk past my daughter being fluffed in the chair by a pretty woman, while on my way to the back of the store with Bob. I endure the manly touch while trying not to make eye contact. Finally, its over...Hmm, did I just get a look? Must be my imagination. Other than Bob, I am feeling pretty good about myself...lots of looks, lots of flirting. The happy feeling immediately dissipated after I got in the car I discovered that perhaps the curious looks were because of my daughters socks I had earlier stuffed into my front pants pocket. Brilliant dad!