So I need to clear a couple things up from my previous post. First of all, I don't know what kind of lunatic "Hi I graduated two classes short of a second degree in English Education" I am but it totally slipped my mind that Voila is the spelling for what I generally say as Waaalaa! Thank you, Jenni and Brenda, for reminding me.
Secondly, my previous post sort of made it sound like my dad was a stick in the mud who never let us have any fun. The truth, I assure you, is completely contrary. Sure, my dad wouldn't walk within 75 feet of me when my friend, Lianne, and I put on head to toe "mosquito garb" and sure he doesn't typically grab a hairbrush, jump up on a table and sing I Feel Like A Woman. Indeed, I mortified my father on more occasions than I could ever dream of counting but a better father you could NOT find. He tortured us with Pillowhead games. He hid under my bed more than once and scared the very breath out of me. He busted out the Manheim Steamroller dance moves complete with some serious hip action every Christmas. He river rafts. He tries his darnedest to dump us off the tube behind the boat he's driving. He even plays certain board games that he hates because we want him to. And one time he took me to Hollywood, just the two of us, because I loved it there. I assure you, it was not high on his list of places to spend the night. Then there was the matter of the father of the bride speech at my wedding and, I kid you not, it was hands down the most hilarious, lovely, heartfelt speech I have ever heard any father of the bride give and trust me when I tell you that it's not because I'm biased. It was that good. So dad, I love you very much and I didn't mean that we never had any fun with you. I simply meant that I was surprised when you came down the stairs wearing greasy hair and nasty teeth. That just seemed like something I woulda done...and usually the things I do mortify you.