Who's Your Daddy?

This is a shout out to my own Dad on Father's Day. I have a very close relationship with my Dad and I hope I have him around for a long time yet. He is a little old (relatively speaking), can't hear with a darn, and passes horrible gas but other than that he is pretty awesome.

My sister will claim that I am his favorite. Dad's don't have favorites, or at least ours doesn't. He helps us all out in different ways and has always been there when we've needed him.

I've always looked up to his intelligence--growing up I used to think my Dad was the smartest person ever. It annoyed the heck out of me when I was doing homework and asked him for help he would tell me to "look it up" as in "Dad, how to you spell arachnophobia?" "Look it up" "How am I supposed to look it up if I don't know how to spell it?" "Figure it out". All I know is you don't want to get into a trivia contest with him. If you can have him on your team--go for it. He can pull out random facts about lots of subjects which is pretty impressive.

My Dad also has the patience of a saint. I've never really heard him raise his voice or yell in all my 33 years. He does get mad, but he is the "fewer words mean more" type of guy. With three girls like us, he had to have a lot of patience. All of us probably called him at least once (or twice) to get us out of ditches once we learned how to drive. When I was in college, I "accidentally" ran over a cement parking slab (it was covered in snow, I had no idea it was there) and tore the brake lines in my car. He called insurance for me, told me where to take the car, and came down to help me out. All he said was "Well, I bet you won't do that again, will you?" Nope, Dad--I always look to see what I may be driving over now.

Speaking of driving, my Dad is a little obsessed with cars. My sisters and I always had a car provided for us. They were never brand new, but they were decent cars that (usually) ran well. In high school I had a cool Red Chevy Beretta for awhile. I also drove a Buick Regal, a Grand Prix (the one I ripped the brakes out of), a Buick Century, and a Chevy Lumina--all bargained for by dad. The best car I ever got to call "mine" was a Ford Mustang 5.0 red convertible with white leather interior. You can't tell me that made a few kids in HS jealous; mostly the boys. That was a sweet car.

More than once I have called my Dad in a panic and he has been there for me. After my freshman year in college I was a nanny and the first family I went to be with wasn't going to work out. I called my Dad frantically, only to learn later that I had been dialing an extra number and calling Peru instead. Oops. The phone company had called and asked if someone with their calling card number would be trying to call Peru. Once I did get a hold of my dad, he picked me up at the bus station once I got into town in the middle of the night.

When we were moving from MN to IA, EE was about 6 months old. The day the packers were supposed to come, my knee was in horrible pain for some reason. John was already in IA and I had no one to call. Super Dad to the rescue! He drove the two hours so he could help we watch EE while I went to the Dr. and he also helped out with packing.

When we had LC and found out about her birth defect unexpectedly, our entire family was there for us when we needed them. My mom was already at our house watching EE and John's family came soon after they heard the news. We found out late in the morning on a Saturday that LC was going to go into surgery later that day. My Dad drove 4 hours to the hospital to be with us, took us out for supper, then had to leave again. But he really wanted to be there and I will always remember that.

There are many other times when I've called on my parents in times of need (kidney stone--they came for a day and ended up staying 4 because I had to have surgery), in times of trouble (remember this incident?), and just because (he'll come down to see the girls any chance he can). Thanks for always being there. You are awesome, Dad.