The dance The Egg Beater originated from his two left feet and lack of rhythm in the seventies but it soon lost it’s popularity when people converted to the Kitchen Aid stand mixer. My sisters try to bring it back when they ask him to dance at weddings.
He drives a red Ford pick up like every person in our area but people know when they pass him on the road because he leans on his door when he drives. I think it comes from all those years I sat so close to him when we were dating.
He had to repeat kindergarten because he could not speak English. He still has trouble with aluminum and linoleum so I try to get those words in our conversations on a weekly basis for our little granddaughter Landyn. I want her to feel good when she is in speech therapy.
He loves fire and is constantly burning something. It is a help to me when I am giving directions to our house. I just tell people to follow the smoke.
He loves fireworks. Too bad he doesn’t have the patience for the people on the road after we leave. I refuse to go with him after he actually drove through Bay City in the turning lane one Fourth of July evening because the traffic was bad.
He loves to go out to eat but doesn’t like to wait in restaurants. The children probably remember every restaurant we ever went to because of their father. His patience ran thin at Chi Chi’s one time when we watched tables get served before us even though they came in much after us. He had other people in our seating area backing him as he sent us out to the car so he could talk to the manager alone. I guess it was OK because we were full from the complimentary salsa and chips anyway. Another time we were at Ponderosa and the waiter was really cocky. Hungarian Work Horse didn’t like how he was talking to other customers in front of our kids and again remarked to people in our seating area. The kicker for that one was when the guy started to clear off the tables piling food and dirty dishes on his tray and dropped a chicken bone in my purse. It wasn’t pretty.
He thinks pregnant women are the most beautiful things in all the world. Females from all over come to our house when they start feeling ugly in their pregnancy. He will do any thing for a pregnant woman. I had to put my foot down when he was asked if he made house calls.
When he was about eight years old he built a wooden sled and hooked up the neighbors dog to it. Every day an old man would drive by and that dog would chase the car so he thought he could get the dog to pull him while chasing the car. Unfortunately he must has been too light and the sled jerked out from under him when the dog took off running and a nail that he didn’t have pounded down gouged his butt cheek. He had to declare that scar as an identifying mark when he registered for the draft.
He has Ricky Nelson lips and Davy Jones good looks but that is where the comparison ends. He can’t sing a lick. When our Brooke was a baby she didn’t care because she thought he was making character noises and who wouldn’t. Here is a sample-
She kicked out my windshield
She hit me over the head
She cussed and cried
And said I lied
And wished that I was dead.
I made him quit that one because I didn’t want her thinking the song was about me.
His eyes are not his greatest asset because no matter what he is looking for he can’t find it. Last night he went to the fridge for the ketchup and he said there wasn’t any. I opened the door and it was right where we always keep it, on the side shelf.
He is legendary in our family for some of his ways but his greatest attributes are this. He loves his family. He makes us laugh and he makes us feel safe. He leads us by example spiritually,emotionally, and physically. He’s not perfect but close to it. His grandkids will read this some day and know that he was something special. They will remember that off key singing guy that hugged them to his chest in church and held them while they mowed the lawn, his kisses and his I love you that was always whispered in their ear in parting and how he held their nana’s hand when ever he could. What makes him so special is something you cannot see but something you feel. We have much to be thankful for in having him even when he melts the siding on the house trying to kill off weeds with a blow torch. We’ll keep him and all of his ways and love every minute of it. Blessings Everyone.