My dad is a super hero! Really - When I started doubting that fact, he was forced to show me his buttons... Who cares about his buttons you ask? Well, they have the Superman S insignia on them. Pretty cool, huh!? Everyone knows that only super heroes are allowed to buy the Superman brand!
Even though I haven't seen him do it, I know my dad can leap small buildings and all that other cool stuff because he proved his 'superness' regularly as I grew up. He can always bust off whichever child is hanging on for dear life during "Bustin' Bronco." He always knows when someone had used his brush/comb. He can clean a carpet better than anyone. He's never sick. He has a special money tree where he goes to pick bills when needed. He doesn't age. And I know that all of those Saturdays when he was "playing golf," he was really either training or saving the world!
As incredible as all of that is, however, his best super powers are things I've noticed as I've grown older and wiser. They are things like his testimony, his love and compassion, and his ability to connect with each grand child. Pretty powerful stuff if you ask me.
You are the best dad for me, and I love you!!!!!
Earlier this year I had my class write about a childhood memory. I wrote one with them as an example. I thought since it was about Dad, I'd share it here. Obviously I took some liberties with the details, but I'm sure all of you will have some form of this "Dad Memory" too.
Crosby Bed Time Routine
"No not the dryer, Dad," I screamed with laughter. Dad continued to lean toward the dryer until I was laughing so hard he began laughing too and asked again, "Where is your bedroom then?"
This was a weekly ritual that I enjoyed growing up. My dad loved to play this game with each of us kids. When it wasn't our turn, we still loved watching from the sidelines as he carried our brothers or sisters throughout the house guessing at their bedroom locations. Amazingly, it never got old!
Carrying me in his arms I felt safe, secure and loved. I knew that he would listen to my pleas and eventually find the right room. It's funny how I truly believed that I needed to help my dad find where my room was.
After the laundry room Dad walked to the kitchen and started leaning toward the dishwasher. "No," I shrieked, "I don't want to sleep in there." Smiling broadly, holding back laughter himself he simply asked, "Where is your bedroom then?"
I thought I'd given him the best directions... After all I knew how to get to my room, but without fail we would end up in the bathroom. Bending down to place me in the tub I'd flail my body yelling, "No, don't put me in the tub! This isn't my bed!!"
"Oh, it isn't?" he'd question. "You must have meant here." He’d say as he lifted the lid of the toilet.
"Agh… no, no, no... just go out to the hall and take me to my room."
My dad started getting better with my directions. We finally made it into a bedroom… it just wasn’t mine. I figured this out after I saw the John Stockton poster on the wall.
I gave him some more directions. I said, “Go down the hall to the right.” Thinking there’s no possible way for him not to make it into my room this time. A sharp knock against the head proved me wrong. I guess I meant left. Soon, my impatient mom would call out, “It’s BED time.” Some how my dad would conveniently remember where my room was and promptly carry me to MY bed. After I was tucked in, I would smile as I remembered the trip to my room.
It was a sad day, when Dad no longer carried me too bed. Being the oldest, I was always the first to grow too big for childish games. I still loved watching my brothers and sisters experience the fun… albeit a bit jealously. I couldn't stop myself from telling them that Dad really knew how to get to their room… spoiling just a little part of their fun.
Happy Birthday, Dad!!!
Even though I haven't seen him do it, I know my dad can leap small buildings and all that other cool stuff because he proved his 'superness' regularly as I grew up. He can always bust off whichever child is hanging on for dear life during "Bustin' Bronco." He always knows when someone had used his brush/comb. He can clean a carpet better than anyone. He's never sick. He has a special money tree where he goes to pick bills when needed. He doesn't age. And I know that all of those Saturdays when he was "playing golf," he was really either training or saving the world!
As incredible as all of that is, however, his best super powers are things I've noticed as I've grown older and wiser. They are things like his testimony, his love and compassion, and his ability to connect with each grand child. Pretty powerful stuff if you ask me.
You are the best dad for me, and I love you!!!!!
Earlier this year I had my class write about a childhood memory. I wrote one with them as an example. I thought since it was about Dad, I'd share it here. Obviously I took some liberties with the details, but I'm sure all of you will have some form of this "Dad Memory" too.
Crosby Bed Time Routine
"No not the dryer, Dad," I screamed with laughter. Dad continued to lean toward the dryer until I was laughing so hard he began laughing too and asked again, "Where is your bedroom then?"
This was a weekly ritual that I enjoyed growing up. My dad loved to play this game with each of us kids. When it wasn't our turn, we still loved watching from the sidelines as he carried our brothers or sisters throughout the house guessing at their bedroom locations. Amazingly, it never got old!
Carrying me in his arms I felt safe, secure and loved. I knew that he would listen to my pleas and eventually find the right room. It's funny how I truly believed that I needed to help my dad find where my room was.
After the laundry room Dad walked to the kitchen and started leaning toward the dishwasher. "No," I shrieked, "I don't want to sleep in there." Smiling broadly, holding back laughter himself he simply asked, "Where is your bedroom then?"
I thought I'd given him the best directions... After all I knew how to get to my room, but without fail we would end up in the bathroom. Bending down to place me in the tub I'd flail my body yelling, "No, don't put me in the tub! This isn't my bed!!"
"Oh, it isn't?" he'd question. "You must have meant here." He’d say as he lifted the lid of the toilet.
"Agh… no, no, no... just go out to the hall and take me to my room."
My dad started getting better with my directions. We finally made it into a bedroom… it just wasn’t mine. I figured this out after I saw the John Stockton poster on the wall.
I gave him some more directions. I said, “Go down the hall to the right.” Thinking there’s no possible way for him not to make it into my room this time. A sharp knock against the head proved me wrong. I guess I meant left. Soon, my impatient mom would call out, “It’s BED time.” Some how my dad would conveniently remember where my room was and promptly carry me to MY bed. After I was tucked in, I would smile as I remembered the trip to my room.
It was a sad day, when Dad no longer carried me too bed. Being the oldest, I was always the first to grow too big for childish games. I still loved watching my brothers and sisters experience the fun… albeit a bit jealously. I couldn't stop myself from telling them that Dad really knew how to get to their room… spoiling just a little part of their fun.
Happy Birthday, Dad!!!
5 comments:
That picture is one of my all time favorite pictures! It is incredibly tender. Beautiful thoughts about dad by the way.
I LOVE the picture of you and your Dad! All of these tributes to him are making me really miss them. I'm so lucky to have such a great father-in-law. :)
Love the memories, Jenn. Thanks for reminding me. And my favorite part, check out Adrienne in the background of the photo - classic.
Ben
So sweet. I've always loved your dad!
Jenn, I give my girls the same bedtime treatment and they love it. I hope they will have the same memories that you and I do. I loved reliving that...thanks.
Russ
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