Daddy’s Little Girl

Today is Father’s Day and I am very proud to say that I am a “Daddy’s Girl”. I know my Dad has his faults – they all do, it’s a kid/parent thing; and when I was a teenager, we didn’t get along that well. Part of that was natural because of the age and partly due to my parents splitting up, but once we got through all of that and we both grew up, we got along just fine now. 🙂 I think we understand each other better as adults.

I remember walking in the park with my Dad every weekend and him pushing me on the swings; and carrying me on his shoulders. He is 6’+ so that’s way up there – I LOVED it. And when I got bigger, he started taking me to museums and on trips. A while back, I wrote about my Dance Mom’s car and the mileage she had on it. My Dad’s car comes a close second in that category. He has pretty much driven me everywhere (dance lessons, etc) and whenever I needed a ride, he was always there. If he initially couldn’t come and get me, I would say that’s okay, I’ll take the bus, or whatever. I’ve been taking the bus since I was eight years old, so this is not a big deal. Well, that certainly would not do for him. Particularly if it was at night. Some of my best conversations with my Dad were in that light gray Mercury Topaz and then in his sporty little blue Mazda. (I remember being at Roosters one night and we had to go see family the next day, so my Dad said he would come get me. So there I am on the dance floor, phone in hand so I could feel it vibrate when he called, and the damn thing isn’t ringing at the time he told me to make sure to be ready. I try calling him, and no answer. As it turns out, the cell reception in Roosters is not the best and Daddy did try to call. But to get me, he had to go up to the bouncer, give his ID and come in to grab me. I feel this tap on my shoulder while I am telling my friends that it’s so weird he hasn’t called – I turn around and he looked so steamed. It was pretty funny. He realized it was bad cell coverage that was to blame and also thought it was funnyafter but he was gearing for a lecture until that point.)

He can be a bit uppity, but that is because he is about “quality, not quantity” – Lord know how many times that was drilled into me. But I guess that’s why I have nice things and take care of them. Daddy is a bit of a wino and a foodie – he makes the best omelettes, EVER. Daddy hosts a dinner party every year – the menu for said party is planned at least a month in advance, gets printed out for everyone to have, and always includes such lovely food and wine pairings. The day I started to like wine was a good day for my dad because it was something for us to have in common.

My Dad is a good man. He isn’t very open with his emotions – I guess most men aren’t – but I have always felt very loved. (And spoiled. I was a lucky girl. I still am.) Dancing with my Dad at my wedding was a huge highlight for me. He is an awesome dancer and it was one of the precious times he told me he was proud of me.

Now if only I could make him stop him from bringing up grand-babies every time Sean and I are over for dinner… 😉

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