My third-oldest child, Trinity, is graduating high school. You remember Trinity, about whom I’ve written before.
She’s the child who says things like, “Pants are for losers,” and, “Dad, I wanna learn how to hot-wire a car.”
She’s the one who when she first took to the stage a few years ago, one of my acting friends told me she was “a natural.”
She’s the kid who always wears mismatched socks.
She’s the girl who once said, “I wish I had a boyfriend I could control. That would be so awesome.” She now has a boyfriend, although I don’t know if she wears the pants in the relationship, since pants are for losers.
Not only can she offer funny one-liners, but also snappy comebacks. A few years ago, her sister Charlotte said, “Your face looks like your butt.”
To which 7-year-old Trinity retorted, “Well, then I must have a beautiful butt.”
Another time, she was upstairs in her bedroom when I texted her, “Come watch Jim Gaffigan with me, you hermit.”
Her response: “Hermits United. We meet up every 10 years, swap stories about caves. It’s good fun. For a hermit.”
That’s a quote from “Doctor Who,” one of her favorite shows.
She knows every word of the “Hamilton” soundtrack and can rap it with the best of them.
She gave up playing sports a long time ago because she hates getting sweaty.
She once invented a new sandwich: Nutella with Golden Grahams and cinnamon sugar. It was delicious, and I suddenly am craving one.
She’s the child I inexplicably forgot to pick up from somewhere, or left somewhere – on numerous occasions. She’s always given me grief about it.
Of my five children, she’s the one who most favors me in appearance. Despite that genetic misfortune, she is a beautiful young lady. It has baffled scientists the world over.
Not only is Trinity more attractive than me, she’s smarter than me. She is graduating summa cum laude from Tupelo Christian Prep, which apparently is really good. I graduated closer to summa cum last.
Perhaps even more amazing than her looks and brains is her ability to out-belch me. She takes great pride in it, and honestly so do I. You other dads with daughters are jealous now, aren’t you?
When it came time for her to learn how to drive, she was terrified. Nowadays, it’s nothing for her to go visit her sisters – one in Jackson, one in Knoxville.
When she drives off to college, Trinity will be leaving behind her best friend, Sarah Beth. Those two have been inseparable since they were crawling around the church nursery together.
That friendship is a testament to Trinity’s loyalty. She’s also a very compassionate person.
Like her father, she uses her sense of humor to mask a sensitive heart.
She’s been like a second mother to our 4-year-old, always willing to babysit when her mom has to work. In fact, Ellie has accidentally called Trinity “mom” more than once.
When Rachel and I told the kids we were getting divorced, Trinity just looked at us and then gave us both a hug. It should have been the other way around.
She is essentially a much, much better version of me.
I don’t deserve a kid like her.