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In 1989 we took the kids to Disney World. Mike was seven, Dana four. Stayed at a Disney resort. Mike loved it. Dana too…on most days.

Dana was an adorable, beautiful little girl with ringlets of curls surrounding her face. But her eyes would turn dark when she felt slighted in any way. Storm clouds would suddenly form above her head. Lightening bolts would smite all those unlucky enough to be around her.

The vacation was terrific for the first four days. I felt I finally had a handle on my daughter; I was able to anticipate and run interference when her mood would begin to dim; I could detect any change in her demeanor, and literally scoop her up and make her laugh before anything bad could occur.

Or so I thought.

On day five we decided to stay by the hotel during the hottest part of the day, before making our way to the park. The kids were playing in the shallow end of a large outdoor pool with a few other children. I stood at the edge of the pool, ever vigilant, watching Dana, on the lookout for…bad weather.

Dana was wearing a cute little life jacket to help keep her afloat. She was playing with a girl a bit older than her, trying to impress her new friend, showing off how she could somersault under water.

Dana surfaced after her second flip, smiling at the girl, waiting for her adulation. Her friend, sadly, was less than cooperative, apparently making it clear to Dana that she could do it much better. Unfortunately, her opportunity never arose because that was when Dana, incensed at the girl’s attitude, pulled her right hand back as far as she could and let it fly.

An open handed slap directly to the girl’s left cheek.

Gulp.

Mike had started to lean away from Dana the moment the poor little girl made her unfortunate comment, much like someone would from the source of an impending explosion. But he was on his own; I had my own problems.

I was hoping no one had noticed, but the little girl began screaming and all the parents could tell what happened after taking one look at Dana’s expression. As well as the impression Dana’s hand left on the girl’s cheek. Their gaze simultaneously turned towards me.

I knew better than to yell at my daughter, but I had no choice. I was expected to set my daughter straight, to ‘do the right thing.’

“Dana!” I raised my voice, meekly. “What did I tell you about hitting?” (I had never told her anything about hitting.) “Now…you get out of that pool right now!”

That said, I quickly turned to my wife. “Watch them,” I instructed, then immediately spun on my bare heels and speed-walked the hell out of there. I took a quick left, walked the width of the pool, then another left and walked its length.

On the far side of the crowded pool I found a small, heated Jacuzzi, already at capacity with six adults, and managed to squeeze in. Submerged myself up to my neck in the steaming water, I kept nervously looking in the direction I had come, actually fearful that my little daughter would find me.

After ten minutes I began to relax. She’s so small! What could she possibly do to me, anyway? Maybe she’ll just get over it. Besides, she can’t walk all the way over here by herself even if she somehow knew where I was! I began chatting with the guy sitting to my left.

Five minutes had passed when all the other adults suddenly looked up, towards the Jacuzzi’s staircase. As did I. And somehow, there was Dana. Standing in the hot water, up to her waist. I still have no idea how she found me, or how she got there. It was almost as if she had risen from the pool’s depths.

“Oh, how precious!” one woman explained (she should only know). “What an angel!” another woman remarked.

Dana was staring at me. She was not happy.

I fumbled for words. “Oh, hi, sweetie,” I said.

Dana continued to stare at me for seven long seconds, then smiled.

“Daddy,” she said slowly, in her sweetest ‘little girl’ voice, “I’m peeing.”

“Oh, you mean “You have to pee?!?” I responded, a bit too loudly, as if by shouting my response I could erase the memory of what she had actually just said from everyone’s mind.

“Let’s go,” I said, attempting to rise. “I’ll take you to the bathroom.” Time to flee the scene.

But Dana did not budge. “No, daddy, I don’t have to pee. I am peeing. It’s coming out of me right now!”

As I fell back down, deflated and defeated, the other adults in the Jacuzzi stood up simultaneously and quickly abandoned the area. That possessed look had returned to Dana’s face, her dark eyes shining.

She held my gaze for another few seconds, then turned around, went up the steps and disappeared into the throng of other vacationers, marching back to mommy.

Mission accomplished.