CD That's Me

I am officially on “summer vacation” and promised my fans that I would blog every day. It was exactly at this time last year that I started this whole blogging thing. But in fairness, I thought it was only right that I posted one more time before I start the summer camp reporting. In May and in honor of Mother’s day, you met my Mom. Now meet the other person responsible for my creation. . .my Dad.

This photo was taken on Father’s Day at my cousin Joey’s wedding (double click on the photo, then double click again to make it bigger). You may think that having to get all dressed up and attend a formal affair made my Dad feel jipped out of a full Dad’s Day celebration, but trust me, we made up for it. My Dad is already sporting an end-of-the-summer tan. My Mom calls him the human tea bag. He just steps out in the sun, and bam, instant tan. Me on the other hand, being wiser than my past days of Sun In and baby oil, love the look and feel of a summer glow, but try to be a bit more cautious now. Sunscreen on my face at all times. The rest of me, well let’s just say everything looks better with a little color. And after a full 10 days on vacation, I plan to have a fierce tan too.

The other beauty in the photo is my cousin Susie. She is younger and wiser. My family used to always say that she was the practical one, and under most circumstances, would be the one to look after me. Apparently, I needed a lot of looking after back in those days of Sun In and baby oil. Um hello, why didn’t anyone, especially my younger and wiser cousin, inform me that continued spraying of this concoction of hydrogen peroxide and who knows what else, would only turn my hair a horrendous shade of orange? My monthly trips to the salon for glazes and toner (to keep my warmth just the perfect tone) prove that I am the much wiser one now. Sorry to say though, as much as I tell people we are catching up in age, I am still older. The color applied to my roots to cover a few strays (rhymes with) proves this every month too.

Anywho, back to dear old Dad. My friends love my Dad and think he is “hot.” Actually at this wedding, he was asked to dance by a very young and pretty guest. We had to leave the wedding early so missed this occurence. But he called me the next day to tell me he was hit on and was laughing at my Mom’s reaction. She immediatley thought this girl was a “hussy” and wanted to kick her. Got to love my Mom. She also explained to me who this young, pretty hussy was by describing her to me by the dress she was wearing. I had pointed her out earlier saying I liked it. Imagine having to put up with me and my Mom all these years? The man must be a Saint.

He was and always is the one who is there. He was the one who always came to my rescue when I ran out of gas in high school (don’t ask), that gave me this mane of hair, that used to give me extra money to pay my phone bills in college after I had already spent my allowance on shoes, that gave me my passion of foreign motors by teaching me how to drive in a BMW, that showed me golf is a four letter word by encouraging and teaching me how to play tennis, that drove me to a meeting in NH when I couldn’t think straight after my dog Griffin was killed, and that taught me to believe in heroes.

He is also the one that after all these years, and even though I am older and wiser, still comes to my house to stake my peonies, that is convinced that I am a gourmet chef, that goes to the nursery to look for the shrubs Mike and I saw and wanted for our yard, that still plays tennis with me and Mom every weekend even though he is clearly better than us, and that is on his way to my home right now to fix a water stain on the ceiling.

That is my Dad.