Daddy of Deeze (like house of pie?)

This past Sunday was a big day. Not only was it Easter, but it was also my Daddy Stooge's birthday. Maybe it's because I'm almost 40 and see life passing by. Maybe it's because I feel sentimental on birthdays. But, I feel like I need to share a glimpse into the window of goodness that is my Daddy Stooge with the rest of the world.

My dad is the funniest man I have ever met. He's just so naturally funny and doesn't even have to try. He's the guy that can talk to anyone (I get my doorknob talkin' from him) and make them laugh. Growing up, I used to get so angry at him because I wanted so badly to be mad but then he would just be himself and I would have to laugh. Who am I kidding - I still get angry with him simply because I can't really be that mad at him. But he's not just funny. He's also the smartest guy. Sometimes, I don't even want to talk about real life with him because he'll outsmart me without even trying. And do you know how frustrating that is to someone like me?

I could spend hours recounting precious memories I have about my pops. I could share with you about the time he came downstairs to greet my friends in nothing but running shorts and a harness. I could tell you about the night he got kicked out of the Latin dance classes we were taking together. I could tell you about the time he taught me to drive a stick shift and all I did was cry or the time he took me rock climbing in the pouring down rain and wouldn't let me come down from the rock (and I cried again). I could share the time we cycled uphill for 9 miles just to have him fall off the trail and knock his teeth out. I could share how protective he was of me when my ex-fiance turned my world upside down. I could brag about how he slipped me an extra 20 in the Bahamas because he knew the more money I had to gamble with meant the longer he had a gambling partner. I could tell you so much about this man I am lucky enough to call my dad.

To be honest, I never really realized the importance of having a good dad until I got to college (but then again, I didn't really realize a lot of things until I got to college). It wasn't until I met so many people from so many different lives that I realized how having a dad, a good dad, was so rare. Someone once said anyone can be a father, but not just anyone can be a dad. I couldn't agree more. I lost count on my fingers and toes how many of my friends have told me they wished they could marry a guy like my dad. He's the total package: he's a Christian, he's successful, he's generous, he's funny, he's kind, and of course he's handsome (he clearly takes after his kids in so many ways). I read somewhere that the best thing a dad can do for his children is love their mother. And that he does. I've written before about my parents' relationship but every time I am with them, I am reminded of their true devotion for one another. Even this past weekend, on his birthday, he was cleaning the kitchen and doing his part as sous chef to make sure his party was a hit. I secretly blame my dad for the state of my love life. He's set the bar so high and frankly, there aren't many guys these days that are half as awesome as my dad.

So when my friends say they wish they could marry a guy like my dad, as weird as it may sound, I have to say I know what they mean. And when I say I have the best dad, everyone else says that they have to agree.