Dad

When I was in middle school my dad was the most embarrassing person I knew. I was convinced he was out to make my life miserable.
His crimes?

He wore mismatched socks and showed people.
One time he arrived at youth group to pick me up wearing a mask and calling himself the Dread Pirate Roberts
He wore a "funny nose and glasses" (the glasses with the fuzzy eyebrows and mustache) to youth group (where my friends called him Cool Mr. Steve! He was anything but cool to me)
He drove through the center of town with the windows down and a friend in the car with Born to be Wild blasting.

And many more.

When I was 24 I loaded up my VW Beetle (affectionately named Maximum Speed, Max for short) and drove from Massachusetts to Washington. With my dad. With my dad, and his eclectic taste in music, and his excitement to drive cross-country with his daughter. (By the way, not to be outdone, my younger sister is driving from Massachusetts to California this summer...with guess who?)

My dad is awesome. Does everyone say this? That cross country drive was not one of the most relaxing things I've ever done. I got angry, frustrated when we got stuck, cabin fever because that is a very small vehicle and it's a very long trip. But at the end of the day? Aside from the two days we spent in Wyoming, I wouldn't trade that trip for anything. I'm not sure I ever expressed how grateful I am that I spent that time with my dad.

And those embarrassing acts? Well, lets just say that it took me years to realize that he did it because he loved me. Someday I hope my kids have a dad who loves them enough to embarrass them in front of all their friends.

Thanks, dad. Thanks for embarrassing me, and driving with me, and the many many many other things we've done together. I love you.

Happy Father's Day, dad.