Stopper Guns and Softball

The first week of October is a weird and wacky one in my family. First there is my wedding anniversary and the next day is my parents anniversary (today is their 51st) and then, the very next day, is my dads birthday. This year, he’s 72. That’s a lot of potential cake eating for a 3 day period of time!

So, as a little “shout out” to my dad, I thought I’d recognize some pretty cool things I remember over the years.

When I was little, he’d always take me with him on errands to the store. Those errands always involved a Hostess cupcake and chocolate milk and hidden wrappers from my mom.

We played some amazing war games in the basement of my house that involved dart guns. My dad called them stopper guns but who knows if that’s an actual name~probably not. It was an all day event that started with some  intense fort building behind furniture and pillows because those guns didn’t play. I remember peaking out from behind many a chair and getting a rubber stopper between the eyes. Let these guns serve as proof that parents in the 60’s didn’t care about their kids…they definitely left a mark! This picture shows a more “safe” version.

He coached my softball team for 3 years. That required a lot of patience so God must have been trying to teach him a thing or two ~ my dad is not a patient man. He had to remind one girl not to take out her makeup compact and check her hair on 2nd base. He had to deal with hurt feelings and gossip in the dugout. He had to deal with my attitude if I wasn’t the starting pitcher. He had to deal with most of us girls being more interested in the boys who were spectators than the actual game. This may be the reason he made the switch to coaching my brother.

He made a huge deal of covering the Christmas tree with ridiculous amounts of tinsel every year. Boxes and boxes of the stuff because it was “our” thing to finalize the decorations. My mom hated the tinsel but he remained steadfast.

He’d defend me to the end. To teachers, deans, parents….and, no, I didn’t always deserve his defense. But I love that he always believed the best in me.

He was my “GO TO” guy. About everything. Questions about finances, jobs, homework, trivia, etc. I truly thought my dad was one of the most brilliant people on Earth. It wasn’t until I could challenge him to a good game of Jeopardy that I decided maybe he didn’t actually know everything.

He tries to pay every time we’re out somewhere. It’s a game ~ we both try to casually slip the waitress or whomever our debit card without the other one seeing. He used to win until I became super sleuthy. Once or twice, he actually took the money he was going to pay with, tossed it on the restaurant floor and walked away. Of course, I’d have to grab it before people thought it was some kind of bizarre give-away.

Thinking about these things and so many others makes me smile. Years and years later. Happy Birthday, Dad. May you enjoy many, many more.