I'm a c-list invite, but I'll take it

One of the cool things my daughter's preschool is doing this semester is offering each child the chance to invite a special guest. Daughter's teacher sent the form announcing this opportunity home a few weeks ago, and the Wife and I talked about it over lunch.

"Who would you like to be your special guest?" we asked her.

She threw out the names of a few of her toddler/infant friends (i.e. our friends' new 4-month old baby), so we explained why inviting a newborn might not be the best idea.

After naming a few household goods, stuffed animals and other inanimate objects she'd like to invite, she finally settled on inviting good old Dad to be her guest.

So at 9:30 this morning, I cut out of the office to be my little girl's very special guest at preschool.

I walked in to the classroom to see her face light up as she let out a big, "DADDY!" She was so excited to see me, but I think if the preschool was equipped with a Who-Is-More-Excited-Ometer, it would have read me as off-the-chart excited to see her.

Her teacher, Mrs. B, had a few things left to do in her lesson before it was time to introduce me, so I pulled up a tiny chair and waited patiently for my cameo.

When Mrs. B was done, she brought a chair to the front of the class and invited Daughter to sit in front of the whole group and tell them about me, her special guest. She told the class how we like to play together and read stories.

It was the sweetest thing in the history of all makind.

When she was finished, I told the class a little bit about where I work and what Daughter and I like to do together. Then I explained Keynesian economic theory, currency arbitrage and hedging strategies to them. I also showed them how paprika is made.

Then I read a book about farm animals and went on my way.

In my 30 years, I've received a handful of accolades for academic or professional things. But being Daughter's special guest today beats them all.