Dear Old Dad!

I may get scolded for writing this the week of mother’s day, but yesterday I was in the yard getting the grass cut with some unnamed help. As I stood there and thought, I remembered having a grass cutting business when I was ten. Of course this wasn’t my idea. It was my dad’s. He just came home one day, looked at me and said, "I’ve got a yard for you to cut." Now, I can’t remember if I’d ever cut grass a day in my life before then. What I do remember is that we started and we cut the grass at the twins’ new house. (The twins were my neighbors for a while along with their mom and their big sister Vickie – but they moved to town so they were no longer my neighbors. Just thought you’d like this background info.)

Anyway, the thought started with the grass cutting, but it ended up running through a number of places. One of the thoughts was how much I admired my dad because of the type of guy that is. I admire him because he speaks to EVERYBODY. I can be a little shy and insecure when it comes to speaking to random people, but he doesn’t care who you are or where you are, he’s going to say hello in that Southern small town kind of way. I admire him because of all the things that he taught me growing up. He maybe wasn’t always patient with my laziness or my not understanding his explanation on how to do stuff, but I didn’t care. I was just glad he let me tag along. Because of him, I hate to borrow money, I cut my own grass, I know how to work on my own car, and I’m the easygoing-laidback-alwayslaughing guy that I am. I could go on and on, but the main point here really is that I love my dad. He’s a nice guy and I want to be more like him.