Ill prepared to deal with sugar and spice

Dads, despite their unique and ever-evolving place within the hierarchy of the species, are still somewhat limited in what they can, and cannot accomplish, in the parenting department. Particularly with girl children.
Today's dads have little in the way of any practical child-rearing experience, unless of course they were the proverbial and physical heads of the household at an early age.
My only ace in the hole is my "wisdom" - the tools and know-how I've accumulated in my years stumbling around this planet. Of course, that stumbling seldom landed me in a library or on a parenting website.
Nothing prepared me for raising girls. Girls make me nervous, always have. They intimidate me, always have.
So, is it any wonder I'm somewhat threatened by my own female offspring? And like jackals, they sense the fear and apprehension in this old dog - they smell it! I can hear them yelping right now!
The result? I allow my eldest, a pre-teen, to often get the better of me. She may not have mastered the Internet (thank goodness), but she's a pro at manipulating dear, old dad, most of the time with very little effort at all. When asked to dash off to a friend's house down the street, I assume it's okay, even though I have no way of contacting her when it gets dark. Rollerblading with a couple of friends through subdivision streets? Sounds like a plan, I say. Bringing friends over to "play" in the basement or watch movies? No problem. I even offer to make popcorn.
Fortunately for husbands like myself, we have wives to read us the riot act, um, set us straight. After our lapses in judgement, we are informed about the error of our ways and are then told to commit these reprogrammed responses to memory for future use. We shyly offer up a few well meaning "buts" and "I thoughts" and these are laid waste by the female heads of the household - the true power brokers.
I've asked my wife, time and again, for her personal handbook, or the Coles Notes version of Parenting for Dopey Daddies, but she's not very forthcoming. I think our female counterparts like to keep these things close to the vest, and keep their males somewhat perplexed. The more chips on your side of the poker table, the better armed you are to go "all in" when necessary. See, even my analogies are male-dominated! We males like to play poker, chess and watch sci-fi, attempting to summon applicable tidbits from card game strategies and years of Star Trek. But, alas, there are few pointers in this pile of accumulated drivel that are perfectly suited to raising assertive female children.
I wouldn't say we're wreckless, by any stretch of the imagination. Dumb, yes, careless, no. But our women folk don't see the clear distinction or even the gray areas.
My first born soon be on her way, exploring the world and changing it forever. There's no doubt in my mind she'll be more than up to the task when the time comes. My role in molding her ended years ago. My "rein" was short indeed, from birth to about age five, when her brain was still in its formative, sponge-like stages and I was placed, rightly so, on my pedestal.
Now, all I get is attitude, lip, know-it-all determination, even lectures about my approach. While I can't place it, this sounds vaguely familiar.
Well, I still maintain my undisputed titles of "joker" and "goofball" that took years to learn and sharpen.
My youngest girl child is another matter all together. She's supposed to be still under my charms, at least technically speaking. But she's found a loophole in the system and has discovered a way, early on, to usurp my authority. This girly-girl is my cutie and I'm still figuring out the intricacies of lip gloss, Barbies, hair pretties and every shade of the colour pink. But don't let her angelic face fool you. Her diminutive frame is a powerhouse of stubbornness - it's her way or the highway. Given her closeness to the ground, she's also tough to move when cemented firmly in place.
She's a small concoction of conflicting metaphors. Sugar and spice to be sure, along with a sprinkling of oregano, yogurt and brown rice. Did I mention females intimidate me? When she crosses those arms and attempts to place a angry frown upon her face, look out! She wants you to know she's upset and for very good reasons.
Again, due to my maleness, I often provoke her, instread of trying to console her. I'll tell her that her face will stick that way, or that being angry will only make her more upset inside. I'll debate the finer points of who's the boss in a battle of wits, only to be reminded - again by the real head of the household - that she's only little and I'm acting immature! I need to show her coping mechanisms and try to alleviate her angst with a well placed tickle to the tummy or an offer to hold a tea party in her honour.
The bottom line - she wins, I lose.
But this little charmer does have her soft side. When she smiles, widens those eyes and comes running with arms outstretched, I'm helpless to resist. I bend like overdone pasta. When she's grumpy and I assume the pose of a fire-breathing dragon looking for a tasty girl snack, she giggles with delight - musical notes that only dads can hear.
I guess being unnerved by the females in our lives has its advantages - it makes us try harder!
After all, a king can never have too many princesses.