Sometimes I Open My Mouth And My Dad Comes Out (Or, Daddy's Girl)
Girls are supposed to grow up and become their mothers, right? Not me. I’m becoming my dad. I play with kids and animals the way he does. I make up my own words like he does. I find myself using nicknames for my nieces and nephews that he used to use with me. And I make silly sounds for little kids just like he still does. I have his sense of humor, and his DGAF attitude. My dad has a shoe collection, mostly work boots. My shoe collection is mostly running shoes. I once compared signatures on driver’s licenses: mine, dad’s, and grandpa’s (dad’s dad). They were all very similar. My dad has a tendency to just set things down wherever is handy. I do the same thing. I’m working on that, trying to assign a place for things and put them in that place. My dad can walk past something 10 times without seeing it. We used to leave his presents sitting on the table, unwrapped. We’d wrap them just in time to give him his gift, and he would be surprised. No clue it had ...