Last night, my family celebrated Father's Day by going to Dairy Queen for ice cream.

This morning is the last day of school for my daughter Eva Emmeline.  She is currently a second-grader at Providence Elementary.  Next year, as a third grader, she will be attending Mosby Woods Elementary as part of a magnet program.

Eva and I have been partners, ever since she was a baby and I used to carry her in the backpack while going door-to-door.  We've always done our favorite things together, whether it was going fishing, watching the Redskins or driving my wife (her mother) crazy.

When she started elementary school, one of my parental tasks was to walk Eva to the bus stop in the morning.  Okay, it was pretty much my only task. 

But every night, no matter where I was traveling, I would be heading for home -- knowing that I had to wake Eva and take her to the bus stop the next morning.

Walking to the bus stop down our street, we'd hold hands and talk about our day.  Or sometimes we'd have a contest naming players on the Redskins, or Presidents, or famous Indian chiefs.  She knows a lot of facts.

But now she's almost nine years old.  A few weeks ago, as we approached her friends on the bus stop, I felt her subtly pull her hand away from mine and walk a few steps ahead.   

Maybe Dad is not the coolest guy around anymore.  Maybe walking with your father is "dorky."

Why do they have to grow up so fast?