My dad loved peanut butter. He'd eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, peanut butter and applesauce sandwiches, peanut butter and cucumber sandwiches, peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I'm not sure I ever saw him eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My mom told me once when I was a kid that there always had to be peanut butter in the house. Once, apparently, they ran out, and it wasn't pretty.
My dad put chocolate syrup on his Cheerios.
My dad liked to drink Squirt and Vernors and various flavors of Diet Rite, but not generally the original flavor.
My dad liked drinking grapefruit juice. He also liked tomato juice. And one of his favorite dishes was macaroni and tomato juice.
My dad was not the one who taught me how to drive a stick shift. This was probably a very smart decision on his part.
Once, when I was little, my dad picked me up in his office and I told him that some day I was going to be as tall as he was without him having to pick me up. I ended up about three or four inches taller than him.
Once, when I was in high school or college (I can't remember which), I walked in the door and my dad was sitting in his recliner, and he called me over, and wanted me to sit on his lap, despite the fact that I was at least his size and probably bigger. He didn't want anything else... just to have me sit on his lap again.
I played the piano because Dad's mom had played the piano. When I was in school, I played the oboe because Dad's long-ago girlfriend had played the oboe. In marching band, I played the tenor saxophone because Dad had played the tenor saxophone.
My dad loved dogs and hated cats. He probably wondered where he went wrong, since both of his adult children have cats in their homes.
When my dad would meet somebody, if that somebody said, "Nice to meet you!" Dad would say, "You don't know that yet."
The very first
pair of sock s that I knitted was intended for my dad. Shockingly, that first pair never got completed, so he never received them. However, the very first pair of fuzzy feet that I knitted were completed and gifted to him for his birthday a few years ago.
My friend Kimmie came across a bunch of knitting images a while back, and I chose this one to make a card for my dad in January 2006. The inside read, "Dear Dad, Today, in honor of you, I put down my knitting and danced with a goat." It was one of his favorites.
I miss you, Dad.
November 2, 1945 - April 17, 2006