She's a perfect ten

Wistfully, I found myself flicking through her baby book. The pink registration card, once stuck to her hospital crib, is in there: Name - blank (it took us a while to make up our minds); birthweight - 7lbs 8oz; length - 50cm; head circumference - 34 cms; time of delivery - 12.34pm; type of delivery - normal. Thankfully, it doesn't record the fact that dad burst into tears.

Under 'first impressions', I'd written: "She looks like a little squashed tomato but I know she'll be beautiful one day."

Admittedly, it took a while. The baby book shows that she didn't have her first hair cut until October 19 1994 when she was two-and-a-half. A soft, snipped curl is preserved inside a small envelope stuck to the first page.

For a long time, there wasn't a hair on her head. People mistook her for a boy and it seemed I was destined to have a Bobby Charlton lookalike for a daughter.

Now, all of a sudden, she's ten: wearing flares, sequinned tops, and getting an electric hair styler for her birthday: 'To smooth out waves... For large rounded curls... For ringlets and corkscrew effects... For all-over or partial scrimping.'

There's no mention on the box of it being able to restore receding hairlines, so I won't be borrowing it, although having four costly children has ensured that all-over scrimping has become a way of life.

She also got a CD of chart music, which gets played far too loudly, and - with the help of her girlfriends - she's put together a dance group. They wiggle their bums, shake their chests and strut their stuff in a way which would have made Pan's People blush. (Pan's People, in case you don't know, were an all-girl dance group on Top of the Pops years ago and us middle-aged dads will be eternally grateful to them.)

I've asked if I can join the girls' group but they rejected me on the grounds that "dads dance funny".

The presents also included a make-up collection - a vast range of lipsticks, eye shadows and nail varnishes - the introduction of which has coincided with the sudden appearance in the bathroom of her older brother's cans of deodorant and all-over body spray.

And then there was the poster of Gareth Gates - the young man who cost us a small fortune in telephone calls to Pop Idol.

Gareth seems like a nice lad but he's taken up a big chunk of my ten-year-old daughter's bedroom wall at a time when I'm trying to come to terms with her mother's George Clooney poster above our bed.

There isn't a single photograph - let alone a poster - of me on display anywhere in the house.

I asked my 'baby girl' who she loved most - me or Gareth: "Don't be silly, Daddy," she replied, as if it was ridiculous to suggest I could possibly compete. I've never bothered asking her mum who she loves most because that would be even sillier.

Nevertheless, both of my girls have me wrapped round their little fingers. When my big girl wants to spend lots of money at IKEA, I just let her go - it's the only way.

And when my little girl asked if her pocket money would go up from £1 to £2 now that she's in double figures, I just said "Of course."

In fact, it went up to £2 six weeks early because she persuaded me she "had to get into practice".

So that's that. My baby girl is 10: Name - Hannah Olivia; weight - five stones, four pounds; length - 137 cms; head circumference - 53 cms.

My little squashed tomato is ripening beautifully and her womanly wiles are in overdrive.

"Daddy, when I'm 100, I'll be in triple figures so my pocket money should go up to £3," she announced on her birthday.

"Naturally," I replied.

"Well, I'll need to get into practice," she added quickly.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

l "WE all have our own bedrooms and beds in our house, except Mum and Dad - they have to share because we've run out of bedrooms." - Douglas Jopling, aged six, as heard at a meeting of Startforth WI, Barnard Castle.

* MICHAEL Clarke was about four when his mum took him to one side and told him that his beloved Nanna had died. Soon afterwards, his mum Jean picked him up from Etherley Lane Nursery School in Bishop Auckland and the boy told her: "I've talked to Mrs Smith (the headteacher) about Nanna going to prison."

Mrs Clarke made an immediate appointment with Mrs Smith to explain that Nanna had actually gone to heaven.

* HELEN Stanwick, of Aycliffe, County Durham, was three when she was tucking into a huge pie in front of her Uncle Jim. "I bet that's nice," said Uncle Jim.

"Yes, it is," replied Helen, who was known for being fond of her food.

"If you really loved me you'd give me some," Uncle Jim suggested.

Helen looked at the pie and looked at Uncle Jim before replying: "Well, I like you a lot."

* REBECCA, aged seven and living in Stockton, had been learning about

religion. "Mum, who wrote the Bible?" she asked.

"God did," her Mum told her.

"Isn't he a neat writer," replied Rebecca.

Many thanks for your contributions - keep them coming. Send The Things They Say to: Dad At Large, The Northern Echo, Priestgate, Darlington, County Durham, DL1 1NF.

Published: 09/05/2002