The Circus
The Circus
“Please, Daddy?”
Twenty years old, and my daughter, Jennifer, still calls me Daddy.
“Please, Daddy? You said I could go to any show I wanted. I want to see this one!”
I told her I would get her tickets to any show she wanted to see for her 21st birthday. And of all things, she chooses the Belarussian State Circus. Okay, fine, she wants to see a circus, she gets to see a circus. She’s my little girl, and since her mother died two years ago, I have not been able to say no to her.
So I got her the tickets. But now, she insisted that I take her.
I hate circuses.
Acrobats, jugglers, animal acts, I just don’t like any of it. And clowns. Don’t even get me started on clowns!
“Can’t you take one of your friends? It’s your 21st birthday. You should spend it with friends, getting drunk, partying all night.”
“Don’t be silly, Daddy. I want to spend it with you, at the circus!”
Okay. Great. We’re going to the circus.
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