Did I also mention there's going to be another birthday on Monday. Like a real and legitimate birth day. I can't wait!
Cat's and my dad is pretty rockin. There was a five year period circa 1995-2000 that we thought he was "the worst parent ever, like totally." Two teenage daughters can wreak major havoc on a man, but we grew out of it and now we appreciate every minute he ever spent with us. Among some of my favorite memories of my dad are:
-Playing "Zombie Dad." We had a little red ray gun that would make zapping noises and light up when you pulled the trigger. We would chase him around the house and shoot at him until he died a dramatic death. He would then rise from the dead and chase us around trying to eat our brains.
-Dad and I had a game where he would hide a penny in one hand and make me guess which hand it was in - by smelling it out. It was a talent I had, smelling pennies. I always guessed right.
-Whenever we were sick the following conversation would transpire. It always made us laugh and feel better.
Him: Do your arms hurt?
Him: Does your head hurt?
Him: Does your face hurt?
Us: What? No!
Him: Well, It's killing me.
-One time him and I were at Burger King before a band practice. I was going to be late and he still had almost an entire sandwich to eat. I said, "I have to go, but you don't have to rush." He stopped chewing and looked at me. I knew what he was thinking. I yelled, "No, don't do it!" ...He shoved the entire sandwich in his mouth. We were both laughing so hard he couldn't chew.
-Edgar. Dad's evil twin. It was a very weird game but it was hilarious. He would pretend to fall asleep and then wake up his evil twin. I don't remember Edgar ever doing anything evil, but we would ask him questions and he would answer them in an evil voice. So, I guess it was more like "The Exorcist" than "evil twin."
Obviously, Dad is kind of a goofball. It made for a very entertaining upbringing. He's more than just a funny guy though. There were times we'd cry and he'd make us feel better. We'd have a disagreement with a teacher over an assignment and he would physically threaten Mr. Chemistry or Mr. History and defend our honor at parent-teacher conferences. (He only did that twice.) We'd get flat tires and he'd come change them. Hell, I just did that a couple weeks ago. I call him no less than three times a month with some sort of home owner's crisis. I call and ask whether or not he can install drywall. Install a water softener? Install a gate? I call and ask how to negotiate the price of a car. I call and ask what size my windshield wipers are. I call for free lunches on Saturdays. I am 25 and married and I still call a lot. And he still answers.