Some of my greatest memories have been made with my padre. The crazy ones anyways and probably some of the most embarrassing moments that will haunt me for the rest of my life, but that's okay because I wouldn't trade them for anything. Let's just say it's good that my dad and I both have the same sense of humor or things could get really weird. I can recall two of these memorable events without even having to think long and hard about our fun times together. Both are stories he likes to bring to my remembrance more often than necessary.
One of the funniest memories I can recall took place in my own backyard. I was in elementary school at the time so I wasn't too old. My dad and I were playing our regular game of wiffle ball. He would pitch the ball and I would whack that thing like my life depended on it. I even remember cracking a few balls. I guess my athletic ability left during puberty, but anyways back to the story. We'd been playing for a while when it came to that one pitch that seared a memory so deep into the ridges of my brain that I'll probably go out with one big guffaw when I'm laying on my deathbed. Okay, it's not that funny, but you get the point. He threw the ball and BAM! I smacked that sucker so hard Babe Ruth would be green with envy! But instead of it flying into the air like a graceful dove, it hit my dad straight in the knee. But you see, it didn't look like it hit him in the knee if you know what I mean. So being the compassionate child I was, I yelled out, "Daddy, are you okay?! Did it hit you in the bell?!" As his knee was throbbing in pain, he looked up and said, "What???" To which I replied, "You know... Ding dong." My oh my. The things I came up with at such a young age. And if you think this story is bad, just wait until you read the next one.
This is a story that I have kept to myself and have threatened to kill my parents if they ever told anyone. Well, not really. But it is that bad that it may warrant such a threat so you should feel a special privilege for me sharing this with you because it may be one of the most embarrassing childhood stories I know. The setting was late at night in the den and as usual, my dad and I were playing horsey. I don't know if you ever played this game, but it involves me riding around on my dad's back as he was down on hands and knees neighing like the barnyard animal. When he went to put me down, he slid me over his head and onto the floor, but when I went over his head, I let one rip. I feel awkward using the word "fart", but that is exactly what I did. Right on his head. I was a gassy little thing and possessed the gift of tooting on command. Yes, I was one of THOSE children. And I think that this would be a great time to claim that I have grown out of that phase. Anyways, my dad yelled something like, "EWWWWWWWWWW! I felt that on my head!" I laughed until I thought I was going to pee all over myself. Good times...
That's my dad and me for you. Playing hardcore wiffle ball and farting on heads. Oh dear. Like I said, I'm glad we both have the same sense of humor. GOD has truly blessed me with such a great dad, playmate, and a man I will always admire. I wouldn't trade him for anything else in the world. Not John Mayer, a '65 red convertible mustang, my own private island... Nothing. You just can't replace someone so amazing and special. I don't care what it is. I love you padre and I always will! Happy Father's Day!
Forever your little girl,
Carlee (AKA: Sweatheart) (Yes, I spelled "sweetheart" wrong when I was little, okay? Don't judge.)
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