 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
PAPA BEAR |
|
|
|
my dad is not one of those people that can be easily described. he's an incredibly hard-working man who has dedicated his life to helping other people through medicine. he drives a mini-van that's getting down to its last few miles because he loves it and thinks it's a great vehicle. he parks it next to the other doctors' mercedes' and BMWs and escalades... and he couldn't be happier. |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
dad is notorious for wanting to sit down and have "pow-wows." sometimes we talk about school and sometimes we talk about the direction of our lives... these are usually pretty good talks... but then there are times when the rest of us leave these "pow-wows" and aren't really sure what it is that we actually talked about. we just have to trust that something was accomplished during the session. the best talk mia and i ever had with dad was the one about the birds and the bees. it went something like this:
"girls, come in here and sit down for a minute. there's something really important that we need to talk about."
(keep in mind that we are 17 and 18 years of age)
"can we talk about it later?"
"no, it's important that we talk about it right now."
"okay, dad.. what is it?"
"well, i just want to talk to you guys a little bit about the facts of life..."
"dad, i actually think we pretty well have that covered by now."
"....oh...so... you don't have any questions or anything?"
"um, nope. i think we are okay."
"you already know it all? "
"yep, i'm pretty sure we know it all. is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"
"well, no. i guess not."
"okay. we'll see you later then. good talk, dad." |
|
|
|
when we were younger, my brothers and i would play basketball in the driveway. my dad used to bet us 1 shoe that we couldn't make a certain shot. if we managed to prove him wrong twice, we'd get a new pair of shoes.... not a bad game.
in high school, we were probably the only basketball players whose dad asked them after the game, "did you do any good trash talking? get any good F-bombs in there?"
he got kicked out of a few games.... he's a very vocal fan |
|
|
|
dad was always very protective of me, his little girl. all of my guy friends were very intimidated by him, which is funny to me because i don't ever remember being afraid of him. the summer after 8th grade, brandon and arpy came to pick me up and my dad met them at the door with a gun. evidently, he wasn't a fan of the fact that these older boys could drive, much less that they were planning on picking up his baby bear.... "are you a pretty fast runner?" he asked. "yeah, i guess..." "oh really? can you outrun a speeding bullet?" |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
despite his bad jokes and his tendency to think my name is theresa, i love my dad very much and i'm very proud of him |
|