Welcome to tokoni

 If you follow any of my stories you are acutely aware of how often I write about my daughter. You've read how much I love her, how much I will miss her when she leaves for college in a couple of months. You heard about her graduation and a couple of birthday stories. Now it's time to share the awful truth.

Julia does not enjoy my Tokoni stories, nor does she think I am funny. I know you are shaking your head in disbelief.  Really. This is true. Just the other day she said, and I quote, "Everything is not a story, Mom." Is she kidding? EVERYTHING to me is a potential story. Everywhere we go she says, "Oh God, you're not gonna WRITE about this, are you?" Her eyes glaze over and roll back in her head when I say, "Hey, now THIS would make a good Tokoni story!"

When she does read my stories she does two things. She corrects the grammatical errors and she never laughs. "Come ON!" I will say. "That was a funny story I wrote. Why aren't you laughing??" She looks at me like I am a maniacal moron. "It wasn't that funny," she tells me. "But what about the line about such and such?" I plead. "That was funny, right?"  I realize I'm sounding desperate. She doesn't budge.

It is not that I NEED my daughter's approval, I just WANT it. You see, I think HER writing is magnificent. Hey, it got her into one of the best journalism schools in the country. But I'm no journalist. I'm guilty of what I call the two enemies of successful journalism: I am emotional, and I embellish. I could not be a journalist. Thankfully, I never wanted to be. In college, my English professor told me I was an essay writer. A writer of feelings, observations and opinions. 

Here is what our conversation sounded like last night:

Me: Did you read my new story?

Her: Yeah, I read it.

Me: Did you like it?

Her: Yeah. It was good.

Me: Will you give me a token?

Her: No. You have to earn your tokens yourself.

Me: When does your plane leave?