On my birthday my mom likes to call me up and tell me a story about the day I was born. On Fathers' Day I like to think of fun/happy/funny memories about my dad. Here's one:
Dad likes to style himself a woodworker. I have a bookcase that he made for me when I was a kid, and love it. And of course there's Gerome Giraffe, who has modeled a few things for me in the last two years. Lately, however, Dad's been working more on house projects. You see, he's just not a vacationer (except on the boat), and so when he comes down for a visit we have to have projects for him to do so that he doesn't get bored. Or take naps. Now, I think naps are fine, but the DH grew up in a non-napping family (I know! weird!), and he gets weirded out by my father snoring on the couch in the midafternoon.
Here's a short list of what Dad has done in/to my house in the last two years:
- Built a landing and stairs to get from the house to the garage. Granted, he did this after I fell down the previous stairs and sprained my ankle, but hey. It's the fanciest garage step setup you ever saw, complete with rails and newel posts.
- Installed several lights, including ones I had meant to do myself, but also one that involved going up an extension ladder on the stairs.
- Installed chair rail in the bathroom.
- Put up two garage storage systems (again, this involved ladders. I should point out that I inherited my vertigo from him, yet he sucks it up and deals where I hide under the bed).
- Installed wire closet system in the guest bedroom
- And the biggest one: built the DD's outside playset from a kit, using a LOT of lumber, all of which he cut to size. My brother (the engineer wannabe) did a lot of the work on that too, and the DH and my uncle helped. Technically, so did my mom, my aunt, the DD, and myself, but mostly we helped by keeping the beer cold and plentiful.
I will point out that Dad's profession is NOT engineering, construction, or any other such handy type of thing. He's a neonatologist!
All this means that there are very few rooms in my house that Dad hasn't done some project in. It kind of feels like, even though he's seven hours away by car (or, at this point, plane), he's still here helping me out.
I love you, Daddy!