When I was a youngin’ me and two of my sisters were Indian Princesses. What does that mean, you may ask? Well, it was basically the coolest thing ever. Far cooler than being a Girl Scout. Indian Princesses was a father/daughter group where you went on cool camp outs and did things your mother would never allow. Like swim in a flooded parking lot in your underwear. And man did I feel hardcore. While all of my friends were out selling girl scout cookies, I was climbing mountains with my dad and embarking on crazy (and at times dangerous) adventures.
Since those days of Indian Princess glory, I have yet to meet anyone else who has shared in my grand adventures. Until today.
Today, while talking with a patient, she told me that she was sad that being in the hospital made her miss her Indian Princess camp out. Now, any good child life specialist would think about discussions and activities that she could plan to help this patient accommodate to her hospitalization, but oh no, not me. With a huge sense of excitement I practically squealed “Oh my gosh!! I was an Indian Princess too!!” She looked at me with her 11 year old pre-teen scorn while I did everything in my power not to yell out “Indian Princesses unite!!” (And no, that is not an Indian Princess motto, I was just that excited). I then bombarded her with questions about what tribe she was in, her Indian name (mine was “Sleeping Owl” FYI-I was always a fan of sleep..) and just how cool she thought being an Indian Princess was.
Although she was less then enthused with our convo (she was all like, “I like my friends but hanging out with my dad is lame”) I was just so thrilled that I had finally met someone who shared my experiences. And although she is currently in the “dads are lame” stage, I told her adamantly that if I could drop everything, join Indian Princesses, and set off camping with my dad, I would do it in a heart beat. Because some of my most favorite memories are from my Indian Princess years and getting to spend time with my dad. And although I might be a little biased because my dad is seriously the coolest ever, I begged her to cherish these memories and the time she gets to spend with her dad and sisters. Because trust me, 15 years from now she will STILL be thinking about those camp outs and all the crazy fun times she had.
Now excuse me while I go put on my Indian vest and hang my dream catcher over my bed.