Gotta love the Dad.
November 17th 2006 18:11
My dad is the typical man's man. He loves sports in any shape or form (except golf). When he couldn't play on local softball teams anymore because he couldn't find a full body brace to hold all his parts together, he started umping. We grew up with our dad playing 14 games of softball a week. We practically lived at the ball park. He fishes when he can, he watches Ultimate fighting and boxing, he's into cars, and motorcycles, and all thing that reek of testerone. This is a man that had 3 daughters, and the most girliest wife on the planet. Irony at it's finest, folks, it don't get any better than that.
Dad tried. He tried to understand our girly ways. He never got it. Dad was never the type of dad that would sit and play tea party. Hell to the nah. He'd take you out and throw the ball around, or take you for a ride on his motorcycle (which I'm pretty sure would be frowned about in our overly safe and cushy world). He would rough house and tickle, but for the most part after a certain age, we left him alone, and he pretty much recipocated. He had nothing in common with us, and we just all left it at that. He didn't care about Barbies, or what was going on in the BabySitters Club book: Stacey Gives Birth in the School Bathroom. His attempts to be "down" with the uterus clique that was our home, was often met with embarrassment, disdain, or giggles.
He loved us of course, and we him. Don't get me wrong. I'll never forget the frosted flakes with ice cream in it for breakfast, or showing us we can have chocolate milk with our cereal, or the ice cream from Velvet Freeze when we were younger (hmmm all this is food related) and even when we were grounded, (which I was a lot) he always still let us watch the Cosby Show and Blossom on Thursdays. To this day, Thursdays is my favorite day of the week.. I say it's becuase of "Must See Tv" but, it goes deeper than that.
Because of my dad, I have learned a bunch of neato torpedo phrases, like neato torpedo and "If I ask you to pull your ears out of your ankles, by God you better do it" and "That's as crooked as a dogshind leg" and my all time favorite "Fuck a duck".
I also learned to appreciate a corny joke. Like what do you call a man with no arms and no legs, hanging from a wall? Art. All of us girls got his corny, sometimes raunchy sense of humor. We all know how to make people laugh, but most importantly we learned HOW to laugh. How to enjoy ourselves and have a good time.
Dad was awesome when it comes to his understanding of our need to be individuals. He was always good about letting us express ourselves, even if it embarrassed the hell out of him. Sure, he'd tease, but always accepted us fully. So, I was the Goth Kid becuase of my dark makeup, and pale skin, hair always hanging over one eye, and Michelle was antennae head with her mall bangs that literally touched the top of the car when she got in, and now Correen is metal face with her eyebrow piercing. Even though he hated every time we dyed our hair, or permed it, or wore enough make up to outfit the clown brigade from Ringling Brothers, he never made us change and he never mad us feel BAD about it. Because of my dad, I have learned acceptance, even though we teased him all the time about his Zubaz pants. No one could accept those.
Other lessons I learned from dad... Never EVER flush tampons. A good man will open your door, pull out your chair, and help you with your coat, if he doesn't, he's not worth your time. Fiber is very, very imporant. Always be aware of how "they" can "get cha". Men don't like flowers, no really, they don't LIKE FLOWERS!! Last but not least, keep on loving your family, even though it may sometimes be hard to do.
My dad, our dad is pretty freaking awesome.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Dad tried. He tried to understand our girly ways. He never got it. Dad was never the type of dad that would sit and play tea party. Hell to the nah. He'd take you out and throw the ball around, or take you for a ride on his motorcycle (which I'm pretty sure would be frowned about in our overly safe and cushy world). He would rough house and tickle, but for the most part after a certain age, we left him alone, and he pretty much recipocated. He had nothing in common with us, and we just all left it at that. He didn't care about Barbies, or what was going on in the BabySitters Club book: Stacey Gives Birth in the School Bathroom. His attempts to be "down" with the uterus clique that was our home, was often met with embarrassment, disdain, or giggles.
He loved us of course, and we him. Don't get me wrong. I'll never forget the frosted flakes with ice cream in it for breakfast, or showing us we can have chocolate milk with our cereal, or the ice cream from Velvet Freeze when we were younger (hmmm all this is food related) and even when we were grounded, (which I was a lot) he always still let us watch the Cosby Show and Blossom on Thursdays. To this day, Thursdays is my favorite day of the week.. I say it's becuase of "Must See Tv" but, it goes deeper than that.
Because of my dad, I have learned a bunch of neato torpedo phrases, like neato torpedo and "If I ask you to pull your ears out of your ankles, by God you better do it" and "That's as crooked as a dogshind leg" and my all time favorite "Fuck a duck".
I also learned to appreciate a corny joke. Like what do you call a man with no arms and no legs, hanging from a wall? Art. All of us girls got his corny, sometimes raunchy sense of humor. We all know how to make people laugh, but most importantly we learned HOW to laugh. How to enjoy ourselves and have a good time.
Dad was awesome when it comes to his understanding of our need to be individuals. He was always good about letting us express ourselves, even if it embarrassed the hell out of him. Sure, he'd tease, but always accepted us fully. So, I was the Goth Kid becuase of my dark makeup, and pale skin, hair always hanging over one eye, and Michelle was antennae head with her mall bangs that literally touched the top of the car when she got in, and now Correen is metal face with her eyebrow piercing. Even though he hated every time we dyed our hair, or permed it, or wore enough make up to outfit the clown brigade from Ringling Brothers, he never made us change and he never mad us feel BAD about it. Because of my dad, I have learned acceptance, even though we teased him all the time about his Zubaz pants. No one could accept those.
Other lessons I learned from dad... Never EVER flush tampons. A good man will open your door, pull out your chair, and help you with your coat, if he doesn't, he's not worth your time. Fiber is very, very imporant. Always be aware of how "they" can "get cha". Men don't like flowers, no really, they don't LIKE FLOWERS!! Last but not least, keep on loving your family, even though it may sometimes be hard to do.
My dad, our dad is pretty freaking awesome.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
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Summer Banks
Romance Writers
