Thinking about the Dads out there

As I have alluded to recently, I am the mother of a pre-teen…

This requires a unique set of skills.  Ones I'm quickly learning as the days go by.  You have to. It's survival.

However, I have an advantage. I've been there. I know what is going on in her little head (more or less, anyway)  I can, with some relative accuracy, figure out where the outbursts are coming from and address the root issue not the behavior (or so I am trying, anyway!)

However…
I feel for her Daddy.
Poor man.  He has no clue. None, whatsoever.
Case in point. He works 10 hours today, gets home at roughly 7PM (after leaving at 5:30 this morning) happy to see his girls and looking forward, I'm sure, to some dinner and family time.

Less than ten minutes after he's home he's served with a note that says:

Poor man.
He didn't even know what was going on.
"How can I hate you?" he asks. "I just got home from work!"

Little did he know, my poor baby girl was just miserable because of a shopping expedition earlier in the day.  She is at that unique stage where she is too big for little girl clothes and too little for junior/miss clothes.  Hence, what was a promising afternoon turned into a big disappointment.  She was devastated.

And the poor man just walked right into a ticking time bomb.
I'm going to have to figure out how to help him. At the same time I'm figuring out how to help her. (has anyone seen that manual I was looking for?)

Ahhh… Puberty. I thought I had left you long behind.  Not-so-nice to see you again.

(but at least this time I have the benefit of experience)