The Smell of Fresh Plastic

The cool blast of AC hits me in the face in a refreshing wind as I enter the store. I look down at my daughter, now almost half as tall as me, and enjoy the comical sight of the pigtails she won't want to wear much longer bouncing on top of her head. I am always confused when she asks to come to the hardware store with me, but I take every moment she asks to spend with me without question.

I let her admire the flowers on display in small pots right inside the door.

"Dad, can I get this one?" She asks holding up a hot pink flower with two wilting petals left on it. It's only a dollar.

"Yes, but let's pick one with more flowers and leaves huh?" I squat down and help her find one in better shape. She carries it proudly as we walk toward the faucet aisle. The half-bath in our house has needed a new one for a long time and I finally decided today was the day to stop putting it off.

I grab the faucet that matches the others in the house and check to be sure Delilah is still with me. I pay and walk out of the store, letting the outside air replace the smell of fresh plastic and plywood.

Once home, Delilah shows her mom her flower. While they decide whether they should plant it in the yard or in one of the old empty pots in the garage, I set off to the half bath to change the sink.

Halfway through Delilah comes to join me, talking about this or that. What her friend at school said, what animal she learned about in science, and a new plan for a drawing she has. I comment on each of these things as fast as I can before she moves on to a new topic. I smile at the faucet I'm fixing; this girl sure knows how to talk. I enjoy that she has decided to talk to me.

"Dad, how do you just know how to fix everything? Did your dad teach you when you were a kid like me?" I stop what I'm doing and ponder this question.

"He taught me a few things, but more than anything he taught me not to be afraid of trying. Most things are pretty simple and straightforwards. There are lots of websites where I read how to do things, but if I was afraid to try them I never would."

"Will you teach me how to fix the sink?"

We finish replacing the faucet together. I leave with a smiling heart, she leaves with the pride of having her dad need her help to complete a project.

That night before I go to bed I water her flower, which now resides in a small pot on the kitchen window sill.