Today is an exciting day for two reasons:
- The Hubs and I are leaving for vacation!!
- Today is my dad’s birthday!
This is the second year in a row where I am traveling on my dad’s birthday– although last year we were on our way to Mexico for our wedding, and he and my mom were only a day behind us, so I don’t think he can complain about that one.
Anyways, I realized I’ve never done a post about my dear old dad, whom I lovingly call Vati, or Big Dog*, or ya know, plain-old Dad.
So, in honor of Fred’s birthday– that’s his non-dad name– and to make up for once again travelling on said birthday, I thought I’d introduce you to the awesome dude he is.
*Big Dog was his name for Indian Princesses (a daddy- daughter group); I was Sparkling Sky. Yes, I came up with it myself, and yes, it’s an excellent name. I made up Dad’s name, too. And then when my sister was old enough to join, she became Little Dog. *Eye roll*
Growing up, my dad did a lot of things for me: he killed all the bugs in my bedroom, signed all my tests with bad grades, and he was always the one to ask first about doing something fun (because he was more likely to say yes!). Plus, when I got in trouble, he never stayed mad for long.
The first time I got caught drinking, I had planned to go straight into my bedroom to avoid seeing my parents when I got home and, thus, also avoid getting caught. So, I clumsily came in the door, walked through the kitchen, and yelled down into the family room, “I’m home! I’m just going to go to bed!”
Now usually when I got home, I would at least pop my head into the family room to say hi, so when I tried to quickly escape to my bedroom, it sparked some suspicion (or perhaps it was my slurred words), and my parents told me to come down by them.
I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but they could obviously tell I was not sober. (Full disclosure, I had vomited at least twice in my friends backyard before coming home.) Obviously, I was in big trouble. But what I do remember is that I climbed on my dad’s lap and cried. “Daddy, I don’t feel good!” He didn’t yell at me, or shuffle me off to
lay on the bathroom floor bed; he just held me and let me cry for a little bit.
That’s my Daddy.
“Hey, I’m Fred. I’m a badass.” -Dad speaking his first words ever to my sister’s then-boyfriend.
I mean, I think that about sums it up.
THE ART OF THE SELFIE
Another essential thing to know about my Vati is that he is the original creator of the selfie. Back in the dark ages of film and disposable cameras, you were bound to find a picture my dad took of himself on every roll.
Unfortunately, I forgot when I went over to my parents’ house yesterday to rifle through pictures for OG selfies. However, Dad has never stopped his selfie game. He’s getting quite good at it these days:
Now, I am also a big fan of the selfie, and I believe it’s my dad who inspired it:
Ok, so our aim wasn’t great, but to be fair, there was no rear-facing camera!
He taught me everything I know about selfies…
We’ve gotten much better over the years, though.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!
Last week, we went out to dinner for a family date/ birthday celebration. We asked the waitress to bring out dessert, so we could sing for Dad.
The waitress brought out the ice cream, and we all started singing. Around the, “Happy birthday, dear Da-ad,” I noticed Steve put his head down. I figured he wasn’t sure if he should sing “Fred” or “Dad,” but I just kept singing– maybe picking it up a notch to make up for his mumbling.
After Dad blew out his candle, my sister was like, “Bex, could you have sung any louder? You were not holding back. I think the whole restaurant heard you!”
“What are you talking about?” I said, “I was just singing like a normal person.”
“No you weren’t,” and then she proceeded to imitate my singing, “Happy BIRTH-day dear DA-AD!” (BIRTH and DAD were very high-pitched.)
I looked at my dad questioningly. He just smiled and said, “It was good!”
I shared my theory about Steve putting his head down, and my loving husband said, “I kept getting progressively quieter as you got louder.” He was embarrassed by my singing!
Whatever, Dad appreciated it.
So, help me wish the happiest, loudest of birthdays to my dear Vati, Big Dog, Dad– my Daddy. I love you! Cheers!
Everyone, do a shot of Jameson in Fred’s honor today!