The ornaments were yanked from the tree with despair, while dad vacuumed pine needles from his rump.

I'm having internet issues...so this is actually the entry intended for March 26:


Friends are the family you choose and family is the family you endure for the sake of good blogging material after major holidays. However, I lucked out when the heavens assigned me to my dad. He's about the coolest dad I could have ended up with. And since today marks the 55th anniversary of him popping out of my grandma, my readers get An Ode to my Dad.

He's often regarded as a quiet man. When he does speak, it's frequently profound or simply hilarious. When on vacation in Orlando, we rode the "Earthquake" ride that ends with a flaming propane tank exploding next to the fake subway car. My dad, who was sitting on the outside of the car and had been front and center for the firey blaze, turned to the rest of our family and quietly said, "Well I forgot to wear my SPF 5000." He's very much like the classic Winnie the Pooh, in his short and very matter-of-fact statements such as "Oh, just a small helping of honey...well perhaps a bit larger of a small portion."
This secretly thrilled me growing up because it scared the holy crapolas out of boys coming to court me. See, teenage boys don't like a silent father figure because there is a fear in the unknown. There was no way to tell if they were liked or likeable. Was there even hope for them to charm their way in to my father's good graces? Even I couldn't tell. But it did make me rest easy that I wouldn't be hassled or treated like anything other than the lady I was, because my dad would probably run them over with the GMC Jimmy parked in the driveway. Quietly. They'd never hear it coming.

And even though I may sing his praises on the blog one day out of the year, I think about him constantly. I'm lucky. Because my son is a blonde toddler version of my dad's image, I am always reminded of how much I love both of them.

It makes me recount my days still living with my parents and sharing all of our favorite snacks that made my mom want to gag, like cottage cheese or crackers and milk. It was something that I had solely with him. And it made me feel special knowing that I was the only person in the world that got to sit in his lap after he came home from work.

Since he’s a quiet guy, I may talk to my mom on the phone more--but I still feel just as connected to my dad. I really hope that Michael will get to share some of those bonding experiences with me and his "Pops" when he's older.

Today's subject line quote is Big Pete Wrigley, "The Adventures of Pete and Pete" (1993).