Category Archives: My Dad Is Awesome

TOM Is Worried About Hurricane Sandy

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October 30, 2012 · 9:30 pm

My Dad Will Always Be a Tiger

Dad: What are you doing tonight?
Me: Going to watch the KU game.
Dad: Do you care about that game? Mizzou didn’t do very well.
Me: I intend to root for Kentucky. I’m wearing my Mizzou shirt.
Dad: Good girl! You stay loyal to MU. They have $100,000 of our money.

Despite going in-state for Journalism School, college didn’t come cheap. Tuition wasn’t too bad — I lucked out there. But ridiculously high ADPi sorority dues (every party had a special T-shirt), the overpriced Clinique products in the bookstore (purchased with my Student ID), the drunken orders of Pokey Stix, tips for the generous bartenders at George’s and the 150+ parking tickets (LITERALLY) upped the cost by thousands. Don’t get me wrong, I had a few scholarships, much of which were lost after a failed College Algebra class first semester. I also worked through school — everything from waiting tables to retail to a two-day stint at the dining hall. But my dad foot the bill for most of it. He even covered my student loans up until 2008, at which point he decided that I was making enough money to pay for them myself. My loans were a Christmas gift that year. Thanks, TOM!

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My Dad Hates Cityville (This Is A Good Thing)

For the past year, my dad has been begging me to give him a Facebook tutorial. I think it’s finally time. A conversation from earlier today:

Dad: Tina, what is this Cityville?
Me: It’s a Facebook game.
Dad: Well, Angie* keeps inviting me to play. I don’t want to play.
Me: You can block the invites.
Dad: But I don’t want to not be her friend! What if I offend her?!
Me: Dad, she won’t even know.
Dad: I don’t understand Facebook! I don’t want to play on somebody’s farm. Is it like The Sims? Remember when your cousin Cara was little and she was really into those Sims characters? I thought that was silly. Cityville is like that, right?
Me: I don’t know. I don’t play Cityville.
Dad: Well, I want Angie to stop sending me these things, but I don’t want to upset her. Does she send you Cityville invites?
Me: No. But I’m not friends with Angie.
Dad: I’m going to have her friend request you, so you can get them, too!
Me: No! I don’t want to be Angie’s friend! I’ll help you block the application. I will come over tomorrow and tell you how to use Facebook.
Dad: Thank you. Just make sure Angie doesn’t find out we’re doing this because I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
Me: Don’t worry, Dad.

*Names have been changed to protect those who use lame Facebook applications.

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Happy Birthday, Mom!

Happy birthday to m’lady and own personal angel, Marla Smithers. ♥ A conversation with my dad about this lovely event:

He says I’m smart. He also likes to sign off every text with “TOM” (aka The Ol’ Man). I assume this is in case I forget who texted me.

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The Years Are Short

Click to play video.

My 61-going-on-15 pop often treats me like I am 10 years old. He wants to help me with everything, give me unsolicited advice, speak for me when we’re out in public and all but crush my independence when we’re within 10 feet of each other. He only behaves this way because he has a heart of gold, and I am still his little girl. It drives me crazy, and I can sure as hell be a mouthy 30-year-old teenager when he gets in his “dad mode” — but the bottom line? I hope it never goes away. And after watching this beautiful “The Years Are Short” video, I think I understand. Whether you have kids, want kids, are blessed to have (or have had) wonderful parents, you should watch it. The message really hits home. (via Love Life)

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The Big Move: A Pro & Con List

Just found one of my Pro & Con lists I made before moving from New York to Kansas City. Upon filling out this particular one, I had already made the Decision To Move and had six weeks until it was time to drive my U-Haul out of dirty Jersey. But whenever I got struck with various bouts of anxiety, I would make one of these dumb lists. I did this one in a hurry; it probably wasn’t all that accurate. But it’s amusing, nonetheless. Five months later, I can honestly say that I am happy with my decision.

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10 Hours In The Car With The Ol’ Man

This Thanksgiving, my dad and I went to Tupelo, MS, to visit my late Mom’s side of the family — my grandma, Uncle Steve, Aunt Becki, Cousin Cara and Cousin Gus. This meant 10 hours straight in the car. Together. Alone. One screaming match, one bout of tears, two threats to turn around and go home, one hug, two coffees, two cherry limeades, 16 cigarettes, and we still had approximately 312 miles to go. This is when I gained a newfound respect for my father.

I’m driving down the highway, my dad in the passenger seat, when some doofus honks at us. I immediately thought I did something wrong. I look over and the man smiles and waves. So we speed up. Do I know this man? Is he just f-cking with us? I’m thoroughly confused. He smiles again and flashes the peace sign. This pisses me off. Now he’s f-cking with me. I think about this for five minutes.

Me: I don’t like that guy.
Dad: What guy?
Me: The guy that honked. I don’t know why he was honking. Why did he flash the peace sign for no reason? That’s weird.
Dad: Tina, let it go.
Me: No! I don’t like him. I think you should moon him.
Dad: OK.
Me: I’m serious. I dare you.
Dad: OK, roll down the window. Don’t look.

I block my line of vision and do as I’m told. I speed by and honk as my dad definitely flashes his bare bottom. I know this because, well, my dad takes dares very seriously. Continue reading

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