ImageMy dad is a quiet kind of guy. He was a military sergeant or something- which makes me a retired Army Brat! I sometimes think my dad watched too much of The Cosby Show when my siblings and I were going up, because it seems he gets quite a few of his disciplinary ideas from that show.

In this picture I’m the hottie in the red and blue dress- I know- I’m so presh. All the other seven year old boys thought so too.

One time when I was about seven or eight I told my sister I was going to kill her…wrong move.I got a beating ‘spanking’, or however we say it here in the south. Yeah… I only did that two more times in my life.

I don’t quiet remember any Father’s day that was extra special- but I do remember Christmas. Oh dear Christmas. Don’t get me wrong- I love Christmas, but my dad has this nearly Christmas schedule set up.

8000: Wake up

8030: Make coffee

8045 Read newspaper

9000: Began the “When I Was A Child” Christmas story

9015: Open presents.

And that’s just how it had to go. Us kids in my family growing up had the sense in our brains not to go waking up our parents at six o’clock in the morn- that was asking for a beating  spanking. Our Christmas tree had all these wack homemade, trash, cookie cutter, VBS ornaments but my dad treasured each one. It was his ‘thing’ to put up the tree every year, besides- no one else would do it.

He is a pretty stand-up guy. According to my friends he is intimidating- yeah, as if. He’s my dad. I just see him as that stern- yet fun papa bear he has always been. He;s tons of fun too, lay out some Dutch Blitz and he’ll go hammer on everybody.

You best believe, son…or daughter.

Dad, the Christmas Police


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s