Thursday, October 14, 2010

Happy (Belated) Birthday Daddy!

I've deemed myself the favorite child in the family (for good reasons, of course!), but I am going to have to shamefully and abashedly fore go the favorite title because this birthday wish is coming a full 24 days late. What kind of child am I? So, siblings, it's up for grabs for now. But don't get too comfortable with it because I am going to work extra hard to take it back. (Daddy - this means pound cakes and extra visits are in your near future!)

But, that's enough Lacey bashing. The point of this is to wish my daddy a very happy birthday! And this one was a big one....

Happy 60th Birthday Daddy!!

But his birthday definitely didn't come and go without any acknowledgment. My sisters, brother and I threw him a surprise party in celebration. It just seems that in my exhaustion from the surprise party planning that I mistakenly forgot to wish him a happy birthday here! Everyone has to make their very first mistake at some point, right?

His surprise party was a lot of fun and he had no idea. We invited his entire church and all of the family. We told him we were just throwing him a birthday celebration at my sister's house, but instead we were throwing him a surprise party at a picnic shelter that he would conveniently have to drive past in order to get to my sister's. To lure him to the picnic shelter, we had my nephew Seth stand by the road with this sign:

Luckily Mama was in the car with him and knew what to look for and pointed it out to him, or I'm pretty sure Daddy would have just driven by without giving a second glance to poor Seth!

It was a fun party though - complete with BBQ, a princess pinata, and lots of love for the Daddy.

But my Daddy has been the best Daddy since the beginning of Daddyhood. So much so that he is still "Daddy" and not "Dad"...which if you call your dad "Dad" it obviously means you don't love your father as much as I love mine, duh.

But even when you love someone you are bound to make mistakes and have the need to apologize for them. And I have just a few things to apologize for & I feel like now is a great time to do so.

So here goes... 


When I was just a wee thing, maybe 4 or so, I was just graduating from using my booster seat in the car to being a big girl and just using the seat belt. But, my family all tells me that I used to panic if I wasn't buckled and the car began to move. Think: "AAHHH! I'M NOT BUCKLED YET! AHHHH!" A bit dramatic I'd say, but give me a break I was only 4ish.

One day, as we were getting ready to pull out of the driveway I decided I wasn't ready to be a big girl yet and collapsed into a tantrum of "IIIIII WANTT MY CARRR SEATTT!". So, to end my tantrum, the Daddy gets out of the car and heads back into the house to get my booster seat that had been stowed away for the time being. Apparently it was under a bunch of boxes or something because in digging it out, Daddy ripped off a good chuck of his fingernail and came back to the car cussing about it.

I've regretted asking for my car seat ever since. Sorry Daddy - hope the nail grew back okay.


When I was a little bit older - about 9 or 10 - Daddy would sometimes let us skip school and go to work with him. This involved riding along with him in his semi truck 'cause he was a truck driver. Which was wayyy cool as a kid (and if he still drove a truck I still think it'd be way cool!) On this one particular trip, my brother, Mama and I were all riding along for the day. The days started early in truck driver land so we'd get to eat both breakfast and lunch on the road.

For breakfast this day, Daddy had stopped at a truck stop he knew and liked. He came back to the truck with a heaping plate full of fresh biscuits for us to eat. I don't know if I've mentioned how picky I am, but back then I was 10x worse. I loved biscuits, but apparently these weren't exactly what I was used to because I didn't even finish one biscuit. I'm guessing Mama and my brother didn't eat many either because I remember feeling SO guilty that he got us a huge plate of biscuits that he thought we'd really like and we didn't even eat them.

I'm sorry Daddy for not eating the biscuits.


And then came the teenaged years.

I'm sorry.

Whew, I feel better.

b (563)

And even though you "gave me away," I didn't go far. I found a husband who is just like you and I can't fathom putting any sort of miles between us either - 4.2 miles is far enough.

So Happiest Happy Birthday Daddy! Here's to 60 more!


1 comment:

Andrea said...

I'm such a cry baby! That was such a sweet blog about your daddy!!! You are very blessed!