when i was a kid my daddy was practically the strongest guy ever. he lifted weights, he fixed cars, he worked with his hands. he could lift you up off the ground with just his bicep, all in the power of one bulging muscle.
and he was stern, too. ever since i was little i did whatever he said just because you don’t mess with daddy. he’s old school and tough. but, that’s not to say that i didn’t get away with my fair share of stuff. and it’s not to say i didn’t — to some extent — have him wrapped around my little finger. i mean, not every daddy just gives his four-year-old exclusive rights to his kick ass muscle car, and lives up to his end of the deal 12 years later when she’s ready to drive said muscle car.
i wouldn’t be the person i am today if it weren’t for him teaching me the right way to install a carburetor and check your tire pressure; or why the broncos are an evil empire; or how to pick the best fruit and vegetables; or where to kick douchey boys that bother you.
without a doubt, i am 100% totally and completely a daddy’s girl.
mine :
