Hero Worship

So, tomorrow is my father's 54th birthday.

There are a few things I want to throw out there, lay on the table. There is no one that I admire as much as my father. He is one of the smartest, funniest, most generous guys you'll ever meet. He's my hero and he's my best friend.

As stubborn, sarcastic and self-superior as he can be, though, he's sometimes also one of the most exasperating people I know. Sometimes, after my dad and I have had a disagreement or something, I'll fix my mom with a stare that asks, how the hell do you do it?!?!

But then there are those many, many moments when I just look at him and I see it. He has the kindest eyes and beneath that smart-ass exterior lies one of the most gentle souls you'll ever meet.

People think it's weird that my dad and I spend so much time together and that we have odd conversations (for instance, after having just talked to Hula Hoop Girl--er--Beth, I told my dad that I was pretty sure I came across looking like either a date rapist or a mentally-challenged man. He responded with the following: "Wait. Hold on. Which one are you classifying as worse?") like the kind you would have with your best male buddy.

Scoff all you want, haters. I love my father and I cherish every single second that I spend with him.

Now, if only he would eat my cooking...