Daddy's girl

I usually hesitate to call myself a daddy's girl, because to me it means prissy princess types and those horrid girls who end up on My Super Sweet Sixteen. But I do have a good relationship with my dad, and there are some memories of him / with him that I treasure. Today's playoff games reminded me of one of them. I was a cheeky monkey as a little girl and liked to show off and impress people. I also already had a freakishly well-developed knack for memorization.

Because of this, my dad and I had a game we would play. He'd name a city or state, and I'd name the pro football team that played there. There were only 28 teams back then, but that's still a bit of a trick for a kid under the age of ten, right? I knew the entire NFL roster, though for years I couldn't figure out why the Steelers were called the Steelers if they didn't steal stuff. I also thought the Redskins played in Washington State. For some reason, I always had trouble remembering the Seattle Seahawks.

One day we were going through the list while Mom made dinner. New Orleans? Saints. New York? Jets and Giants. Houston? Oilers. Philadelphia?

I didn't answer fast enough, and Mom called from the kitchen, "Cream cheese!"

To this day, every time I watch an Eagles game, I remember that night and I smile. I think I am a bit of a daddy's girl after all.