Saturday, January 23, 2010
Me and Daddy in my parent's back yard. March of 2000.
Today's my daddy's 72nd birthday. Happy birthday to the sweetest, truest and most self-effacing and beautiful man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Happy birthday to the teller of ribald jokes and funny old stories. Happy birthday to the man who once, when I was five years old, accidentally slammed my thumb in the tailgate of his truck and then cried more than I did. To the only man in a house full of women, who never minded buying tampons and who says things like, "You know I can't button up shirts no more, cause I ain't got no feeling in my fingers. I need me some of them snap-button shirts. Like Porter Wagoner."
The older little bare-foot boy in the overalls. With my grandparents and my Uncle Jimmy. Circa 1943.
Daddy said this morning at breakfast the girls down at the restaurant brought him a piece of cake with a candle and then sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. One of them asked Daddy if he needed a lap dance. He said, "Why it sure would help a whole lot."
Posted by Janet Scronce at 8:45 PM