So, even though I spent 3 hours making breakfast for someone who is NOT my father (he doesn’t even give me allowance), I wanted to share a bit about my own father, who’s far away on this fancy-dad-filled day.My dad’s basically awesome. When I was little he was great to play with, he always said the right things to make me feel better about myself and I think perhaps his NUMBER one triumph is this particular story:
It was the summer that I was applying to nursing school. I was a particular mess this summer. I had already been shot down once and under the guidance of my mother I was searching out some other possible “career paths”, as well as working full time (at the stinking cannon center, no less) and taking some last ditch classes. I was in the process of finishing up my application and had to go to work. For some weird reason I decided I needed to clean-out this little make-up tray of mine, turned on the water, ate some breakfast, and left (water still running). Then, I get a call at work… Hilary… you’ve flooded our whole freaking house (which is like 1 year old at this point). I know that my mom basically wanted to chain me to the wall and beat me at this point (and I basically can’t blame her, now that we’ve worked so hard to get this tiny little cottage, I’m sure she was HORRIFIED at water seeping out of the walls she’d so lovingly SCREAMED at contractors just a year ago to get perfect). Anyway, I come home (and thanks to my friend Arnie at work for taking up the slack, I’ll never forget that either). and there’s seriously water SQUISHING out of the carpet in the basement and like 1/2 inch of standing water in some places, and there’s giant bulges in the paint in other places. I basically think I’m screwed, and it wasn’t even that I’d gotten rejected from nursing school (again). My mom helps out a bit, but I vaguely remember her leaving because she wanted to tie me up and beat me and I guess my dad didn’t have that in the plans. I remember crying as we used the wet-dry vac to suck the water out of the carpet… And then my dad gave me the “sin” verse “mistake” talk. I don’t know if he’d given me this talk before, but I know that it made an impression and I also know that when I turned around to see Conner had turned our friends couch a lovely shade of blue with a highlighter this was one of the first lessons that came to my mind. It’s made me a better parent, and perhaps I don’t initially think of chaining my kids to the wall and beating them (although, Drew did have to take Conner home after the highlighter incident — I couldn’t even look at him). So, thanks for being there dad, and teaching me the lessons that’ve made me who I am. I’m sorry you had to work with what you were given. Love you!P.S. My parents have left the peeling paint there STILL in their house, I think it’s their quiet way of tormenting me for my big mistake.
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