Why Daddy Can't Write
Rick Reilly
May 05, 2003
Take our Daughters to Work Day was last Thursday, so I took my 13-year-old, Rae, for the first time. Hey, a kid will do anything to miss a day of school. By noon she was begging to go back.
HER: Would it help more if one of the balls went in the thingy?
Nothing was coming to me, so I went and did a little planning at the driving range. I asked her to answer the phone while I was gone. When I came back, she was beaming.
HER: Daddy, a man called. Very nice. Said he's a hunter. He wants you to be sure you never walk alone.
ME: Uh, O.K.
HER: And a book reviewer from some New York paper called.
ME: Really?!
HER: Yeah, he said he got your new book and wants you to know he's going to waste no time reading it.
ME: Oh.
She's good at math, so I gave her a crack at my expense account.
HER: Hey, all these cabdrivers have handwriting like yours!