Editor’s note: for the next two weeks we’ll be running the best of our This Ordinary Day pieces. We’ve enjoyed working with so many great writers and wonderful people and felt it was high time to take a look back at some of what they’ve brought us. If you’d like to see more pieces, please take a trip over to our archives page — it’ll be well worth your time.

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I’m going to have a daughter. I know it.

I’m not expecting* right now. I don’t know if I’ve even met the girl who will carry my daughter. And if I have met her, well, we haven’t discussed that yet and we haven’t realized some day we’ll be making a daughter.

*Do males expect? Is it the woman and man are expecting or just the woman is expecting? If someone could clear that up for me, I’d appreciate it.

But I just know it, I’m going to have a daughter and I’ve always been scared to death of the fact. I even go so far as to tell people that I want a son. I want to name him Phog (probably why I haven’t found the mother of my baby yet) and he will play basketball, probably get burnt out on basketball and then I’ll force him to play because eventually he’ll learn to love the beauty of backdoor passes and team defense and the pick and roll, because how can you not.

When I say things like this, it makes my mom angry. In fact, it makes females angry. But the men who are reading this are nodding their heads. If their girlfriends or wives are looking over their shoulders, they might be hiding the nod, but they get it. They’re thinking about their friends when they were in high school and college and maybe they’re even thinking about themselves when they were in high school and college and they, like me, are thinking about the chastity belts and bedroom deadbolts they’ll have to buy for their future daughter’s bedroom door when she turns 14. Even I feel bad for my future daughter.

But I had a breakthrough today. It was the first day of a basketball camp I’m coaching at this week and it’s a co-ed camp for kids. I’ve coached in the past*, but I’ve never coached girls.

*Coaching is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. When you see the light bulb go off in a kid’s head and then his body actually performs the skill you’ve been teaching for months and you see how happy… eh, this deserves its own entry. Come back in two weeks and I’ll tell you all about it.

So when I arrived at the camp today and saw all the girls, I thought it might be a challenge. I know how to deal with a boy who’s not listening. You maybe raise your voice just a little, no yelling, but just enough to get their attention. But could I do that with a girl? I’m not going to make a girl cry. I might cry.

So camp started. I had the eight-year-olds. And they all were pretty good kids. Almost all were awful at basketball and have practically no knowledge of the game and that can be frustrating, but it’s also fun because you get to really teach. Maybe they only get about half of what you’re teaching, but they’re learning, and they want to learn, more than any high school kid can learn or is willing to learn. Patience is the key. Extreme patience.

But this is where I started to realize I could have a daughter.

The girls listen. They all listen. And then, they actually make an effort to do what you say. And they do it with a smile. And they’re all so darn cute. And they all loved me. I don’t know what it was, but they all loved me.

One little girl named Janet was in my group in the morning session and she was one of the few kids who also stayed for the afternoon session. In between sessions Janet came up to me (well, actually, she was sort of following me around, but not an annoying follow like some kids do), and she asked if I knew whether she would be in my group in the afternoon. I said I didn’t know, because I didn’t.

Then when they were being split up into groups that afternoon and she was in the group told to head to my basket, she sprinted toward me like she had just been given the key to the best, biggest candy store in the world and her little freckly face had a smile ear to ear, and, well, my heart kind of melted.

Janet: (jumping up and down, tugging on my shirt) Coach C.J.! Coach C.J.! I’m in your group! I’m in your group!

Me: (smiling) I know. I know.

And then I thought maybe I’m all right with a daughter. Maybe it won’t be a curse. Maybe I even want a daughter… just one that magically skips the teenage years or stays eight forever.

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