Dad, You Look Like A Pencil With A Frizzy Top

My father, a self-proclaimed hippie and alcoholic until the day hemet my gorgeous mother, wore a brown leisure suit and platform shoes to his wedding.  I forgive him for this offense, only because my mother wore a black, sparkly pantsuit.

I’m amazed my father had any sense at all when it came to raising a child.  When he was 7, his mother woke him up in the middle of the night and they left town to escape his alcoholic father.  His mother worked nights as a surgical nurse and they moved every two years.  He grew up without a male influence, aside from his cousin who introduced him to drugs at age 11.

my-parentsI was born in a trailer park.  Does that mean I get to cry a river and say that I’ve had it a little worse than the rest of you?  No? But do I get to blame at least a few of my issues on that fact?  When my parents were married, my dad was making $6/hr, yet they managed to save 50% of his income a month, while my mom stayed at home with the kids.  This is could be where my Suze Ormond frugalness stems from, the kind which allows me  to be perfectly satisfied driving a ’99 Saturn with a hole in the hood, that floods every time it rains. Especially last night.

Eventually, my dad started his own business and they saved enough money to purchase a charming, completely run-down and nearly un-livable home in the country. For years, my dad awoke at 5am, and after working all day would come home to do paperwork for the business and spend every spare moment learning how to remodel that house.  That’s right, learning – from actual books. Incomprehensible, I know. But as busy as he was, trying to make a life for us, he always had time for any absurd request I might have.


Thanks for sitting in my room every single night, while I rehashed my entire school day, complete with tearful confessions of snobby girls, mean boys, and despicable rumors.  And thanks for continuing to sit in my room every night, even when those confessions turned into eye-rolling  and the words: “I’m fine. Goodnight.”   Thanks for never missing dinner and showing up to every event in my life even though I was excrutiatingly embarrassed of your presence.  Thanks for staying up til 3am to help me grasp Chemistry, which by the way, was a battle we should have surrendered long ago.  Thank you for not using your past as an excuse, but as motivation to be better. 

Thanks for teaching me that even though people may take advantage of your kindness, you should give it anyway.  Thanks for building me that sweet swing set, which was the envy of all my friends and equipped with a sandbox litterbox for the cats.  Thanks for working so hard so that I could have a mom waiting for me after school every day.  Thanks for being so awesome that my friends wanted to come over just to hang out with you.  Thanks for being an example of how a man should love his wife.  Thanks for dropping everything to come put air in my tires, or some other mundane task that I always seem to screw up no matter how many times you’ve shown me.  Thanks for helping me crawl out of every mess I’ve made.  And there have been some big ones.  I mean, big.  But most of all, thanks for making me feel like I was the most amazing thing in the world even when I was terribly awkward and unfortunate looking.   I’ve been spared from so much because of the self-esteem that came from your unconditional support and love.  I’ve never felt like I needed anyone, or anything, to fulfill me. I’ve always thought I could do anything.  But really, it would have saved us both alot of stress if I hadn’t actually tried to. 

I almost feel like it’s been an unfair advantage, having you around.  But truth be told, you do look like a pencil with a frizzy top.


50 thoughts on “Dad, You Look Like A Pencil With A Frizzy Top

  1. Your dad NEEDS to read that! :). Not to get all warm fuzzy on you, but that was totally touching and you should totally share it him…what a great guy!

    • rachel – aw, thanks darling. i did get a wee bit teary eyed as i was writing it… i can’t believe i just admitted that. and yes, he’s amazing.

      candice – thank you. thank you. you better write one for yourself!!! he is the absolute best. I could have written about him for days. p.s. i secretly love that wedding picture. it sums up my parents like you wouldn’t believe.

  2. ohhhhhh man. i love this entry. love love love. i had fully intended to write one just like it and post it on my blog, but chickened out. you have inspired me.

    your dad sounds absolutely amazing, and a lot like mine. and i dunno, but i think that wedding picture looks pretty rad.

  3. What a great post. There really is something special between fathers and daughters.
    There was not a thing my dad couldn’t/wouldn’t do for me.
    Enjoy every moment!!!!

    • aw zelzee – i’m so glad to hear you have a great dad too. its truly a blessing, and a rarity, especially nowadays. My parents are precisely why I won’t move away from this crappy town!

      brandon…. now that might just be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said on this blog. thank you =) now what do you want?

      yorks – aw, so sorry to hear that york. … I’ll think about it. I’m not too good at sharing my emotions (except for with imaginary, internet people who i’ll never see.) ha

  4. This was very touching. Is this really the Blunt Delivery we know and love? Just kidding, it was nice to read such a heartfelt post. You and your dad are very lucky to have each other.

    • jen – yes yes, it’s true. and it’s me. nobody hacked into my blog and wrote this overly sappy and shocking post. i take full responsibility. glad you liked it. here i thought everyone was going to forsake me for writing something so serious!

      kevo – i’m sorry i boggled your mind… i have that effect on people. and i’m glad i could warm your cold, cold heart. jk. sorry. I have to balance all the mushiness with sarcasm.

      chris – aw thanks chris. I’ll think about it. i will.

  5. Very well put and touching. And I agree with some of the other readers, your dad needs to see this. It will mean everything to him, I’m sure.

    Excellent work.

    • demim – if you keep being nice to him, he’ll make you some chocolate milk.

      linlah – thanks =)

      steve – yea, you guys are all probably right. thanks for reading and thanks for the advice.

      mvd – so sorry to hear about your dad =( yea, i thought everyone was going to forsake me for writing such sacreligious sappiness. He’s definitely a HUGE part, if not the biggest, of who i am today. and no, it was actually just lettuce. He’s just retarted.

  6. If the last 21 mos of my life have taught me anything is that you should let those near and dear to you know how you feel about them. You should let Dad read this. Its beautiful and thoughtful and sappy and all the things that are about saying thanks Dad….Zman sends

  7. The raw honesty! The sentimental heart tugs! The unconditional love! Here I am, still mentally digesting the contents of your freezer and Steve-O’s ass, while absorbing a moving tribute to the man behind it all.

    Nicely done. I flipped the switch on my blog back in March and wrote something similar about my (late) father. Keeps the readers on their toes, ya know?

    Bottom right photo: Overripe kiwi? Sour grape?

    • haha. well good kevo. it was a dirty job. You’re a tough shell to crack.

      constant- aw thanks. he really is. and let me tell you that i could have written pages and pages about him. But please know, that girls idolize their fathers. When they aren’t there, or they don’t show them love and affection they will always seek it out in all the wrong places – but it will never fill that void. So always, always make her feel like she’s a million bucks. Always listen to her rambling. Or she’ll find someone who will. That’s my two cents.

  8. Beginning when I was about 5, my dad started taking me to museums.He wanted to instill in me an appreciation for beauty and creativity. I’d still rather go to a museum than just about anyplace else–except the pool hall, where he often took me as well. Thanks for making me think about this.

  9. Great story. Your dad should be proud. I only wonder if you mom reads this and think…why didn’t I get this beautiful post about me on mothers day?

  10. My dad is great like that too. A total hellraiser until he met Mom. Coached our teams, took us camping, volunteered with the Band Boosters, everything. And he even says he had fun doing all of it! I hope mine are that fun! Happy Father’s Day, everywhere!

  11. OMG!….we had the same dad! =:-o
    Now I know why I love your writing.
    This post is just down right beautiful. You NEED NEED NEED to let him read this. If it is too uncomfortable, send the link to your mom……he’ll see it…..she’ll be sure to let him see it. 🙂

    I hope your day has been beautiful……as beautiful as you.

  12. nina – glad to hear that you had such a great experience as well. it’s quite a blessing.

    suldog – why thank you, sir.

    robin – aw, you are so freaking sweet. Thanks for reading, I’m glad you liked it.

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