Friday, June 19, 2015

Four Little Girl Memories of Dad

It's Father's Day this weekend. Time to reveal fond memories of Dad.

Telling of "The Pig Jumped Over the Sty" story

I'd long for lazy Sunday afternoons when Dad would tell me this drawn out story. Sometimes I'd cuddle with him in his black recliner in the corner of the living room, but most times I'd sit on a nearby chair because he'd get sleepy and barely get the story told. I didn't want to be trapped there in the midst of his nap or wake him up trying to get away. Maybe in a couple weeks when our family gathers to honor his 90th birthday a few months back, Dad will tell this story to his twenty-one great grandchildren, and I'll get to hear it all over again.

Counting the church offering

This was our Sunday-after-church ritual upstairs in his office while Mom put lunch on the table. Dad's thick fingers thumbed through the bills. He'd pause to face the bills in the same direction. Maybe that's why my wallet has to be organized. Coins got sorted into a white organizer. Sometimes he'd let me do that. If there were enough, he'd blow air into colored cylinders and wrap 'em all up. All the money was placed into the yellow pouch and put in the safe. This memory is so dear to me that I've written numerous creative essays about it.

Making me eat the crust of my toast 

Mom didn't make me eat it, and one time Dad noticed. He told me I was eating it. Can you imagine? I hated that part. Now I had to eat it all by itself without the tasty jam? He spied on me then for the next few breakfasts. Told me to eat the crust first and get it over with. So, that's what I've done with my toast ever since—and I even like the crust now.

Playing my stupid "Be a Monster" game

This was a game I made Dad play when I was way too old to be playing a game like this (and I even make him do it now—because it just cracks me up). There are two ways to play it. One: put a bag over your head and slowly walk stiff-armed into the room, growl, and head toward the person you're scaring. Second way: no bag needed but smile sincerely and nicely and then just slowly develop a creepy looking face, show the gums of your teeth, and make your hands look like you're going to claw the person. We played variations of this simple game last Christmas with Kassie and Cameron, two of my great nieces. We had to stop when they got truly scared, but then they begged for more. These two stupid monster games, especially when Dad is in the mood to play them with me, give me a good bellyache laugh every time. 

What are the little things your dad did when you were young? Any activities you still share? If your dad isn't here anymore, what fond moment appears in your mind the minute you read this question? Give us some details, please. I can't be the only one out there with some sweet, embarrassing memories.

Writer's Note: To read last year's Father's Day post, click here for "Dollars and Sense: A Lesson in Interest of a Different Kind." For more about my dad, read the three posts I wrote early this year after he turned 90. I wrote in segments of three decades. Click here for "First 30 Years of My Dad's 90-year-old Life." Click here for "The Middle Years of a 90-year-old's Life" and here for "Old Age Creeps in at 70-80-90 Years of Age."


  1. I played the "Monster" game with my girls. In San Angelo, our hallway connected to the kitchen, which connected to the living room, which connected back to the hallway. You could run full circle. I'd do my claws, high step it, slowly ... growling ... they would be running ... I'd switch directions. Yeah, I had to be careful that they didn't get hurt ... I went very slow! They'd giggle so much. We laugh about it today and sometimes I take the stance! :)

    1. How fun and funny, Shelli! My sister Brenda and I did a similar move when the first Jurassic Park movie came out. We dubbed it the dinosaur move that sounds a lot like the thing you did with your girls. We also have one where we make a creepy clown smile and get right in the kids' faces. They loved it! Thanks for sharing, so I'm not the only goof ball out there!