Every six months or so, I get to take my lovely daughter out for a meal, just the two of us.

My job is not to bring up stressful items, to not make a scene, to not offend her by ordering animal foods, and to agree to view any video or hear any song she chooses. Not too painful.

Stephen Anthony’s is a popular brunch spot on a Sunday. The service is painfully slow. Very young greeters and very old table-clearers are bailed out by the passable waitresses and decent food, if uninspired.

We did have a great view of the pond, on a beautiful day, after a great holiday night out at the fireworks.

I got the oatmeal, which was nice. The raisins and a bit of syrup perked it up. Also got some wheat toast, and I put my favorite, strawberry jam on it. Yum. Finished with a cup of decaf. I have grown a lot in her 16.5 years. I’m more flexible now.

She got a mushroom omelet, and a fruit cup. We shared a bit. We spoke a little, and I felt a connection to my 16.5 year-old that I generally feel slipping due to her coming into her own career and relationships. A more complicated life is coming, but she seems to be navigating it fantastically. I do spend about an hour a day praying and chanting for her safety etc. Now that she has her driving permit, maybe two hours would be warranted.

Anyway, it was a nice time, and she even stopped to photograph the horses and cows on the way home. I’m a lucky dad.