![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasX_bBADnjcrz9DUe4EPpuaF_tja-8tpt1bVwDAqIjox8W8o3qtpsqyE2abt4R93aCQ52wnKKY7APWX4Lh-iSDrJP-8EuutGuI7MfLC_1PdSoDGzGpSrr-HwPWvlN_AjNABgtPHEfLwo/s200/toddler.gif)
Well, "visit" isn't exactly the correct word. My daughter came to get money from me.
And as she breezed through the office, she couldn't help but attract a little attention. . . and yes, there may have been a curious eye or two watching our interaction. . . for do I talk about my girls at work??? I may have mentioned them once or twice. . .
Anyway, as my darling daughter walked away with the last (and only) twenty in my wallet, I made the mistake of asking if she'd be home for dinner - a question that was surely bothersome and uncalled for - for the reply (given on the fly, mind you) went something like this: I don't know, Mom! I can't tell you now!!!!
And there I sat . . . . watching her back and that beautiful brown hair making a hasty retreat towards the door.
But, miraculously, something happened.
She stopped.
She reeled around.
(My heart stopped beating.)
She plastered a "smile" on her face.
And she said (for all those within earshot) Thanks, Mom!
And I, feeling that my dignity was somewhat still intact, yelled after her See you later, Sweetheart!
. . . to which my trusty co-worker replied, See, a son would never do that!
Still somewhat unsure which side of the fence she was coming down on, I asked nonchalantly, Do what???
. . . .to which she calmly replied, Use you like that. . . and then added, A daughter will rip your heart out, but a son just wouldn't do it.
Can I tell you the saddest part of the story???
I thought the whole exchange had gone quite well. . . I only lost a twenty, she remembered to say thank you, and I got a "smile" out of her! Besides, I don't have any of those son-like-things to compare her to.
I guess I now know what they mean when they say One mom's trash is another mom's treasure!