When I was born, my Dad triumphantly shouted, "It's a BOY!"
Apparently, he was confused by the umbilical cord.
Ahem.
Once it was clear that I was, indeed, a girl, thus began his journey as being a Dad of girls. 2 girls in fact. That couldn't have been easy- my Dad is a manly dude. However, he jumped right into girlworld and made it happen:
He always told us how pretty we looked before church.
He tried with the hair, he really did:
He handled my prissy side with ease:
We were never too old for the "Daddy Airlines:"
Thanks, Dad. Happy Father's Day.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Ready for the U.S. Open
I started playing tennis with my girlfriends on Monday evenings. I've never played tennis in my life, but I was tempted by the cardio workout and the beer afterward. Also tempting was that we were all beginners, so my ego was safe. (That's important to the girl picked last in gym.)
I had a great idea to let the tennis enthusiasts, also known as my husband and mother-in-law, give me some lessons so that I don't look like an idiot during my next game. This is how they play:
BAM! POW! Take that, MOM!
BOOM! SWAT! I gave birth to 10-pound babies, BRING IT!
And then, there's me:
Um, can I stand at half-court? When is the water break?
I'm haven't quite earned my tennis skirt yet:
I had a great idea to let the tennis enthusiasts, also known as my husband and mother-in-law, give me some lessons so that I don't look like an idiot during my next game. This is how they play:
BAM! POW! Take that, MOM!
BOOM! SWAT! I gave birth to 10-pound babies, BRING IT!
And then, there's me:
Um, can I stand at half-court? When is the water break?
I'm haven't quite earned my tennis skirt yet:
Monday, June 8, 2009
An Open Letter to the Single Guys
This weekend we hosted one of the most beautiful wedding receptions we've ever planned. I have never seen such a gorgeous evening with equally gorgeous ladies. I was horrified at how the evening unfolded, which prompted this letter:
Gentlemen,
It's a jungle out there, I get it. I don't miss dating and I wouldn't want to go back if you paid me. That said, if you're single, there are a few guidelines that I personally recommend. Specifically when you go to a wedding where beautiful, single ladies abound. (Hey, I don't make the rules. You throw a wedding, they show up. Just how it is.)
1. Do not show up in ripped jeans and a baseball hat. Chances are, the bride's family paid thousands of dollars for this wedding, and you don't want to look like a slob.
2. If you see a hottie, offer to get her a glass of wine. Ask her for a dance. Ask her to join you outside for some interesting conversation. Do not do this:
*Blow your cigarette smoke in the faces of these lovely ladies
*Hit on the wedding planner
*Try to feel up the wedding planner. She knows what you're doing when you offer a hug.
*Start pushing another guy so the wedding planner has to get in the middle of it and give her frightening "teacher evil eye" to break it up
3. No one is amused that you can say the "F" word. It's tacky at such occasions and you can control yourself.
4. Do not stand at the bar and down one beer after another. More importantly, do not complain that the bartender isn't pouring the free beer fast enough.
Just trying to help. The ladies weren't impressed with any of this, so began dancing by themselves all evening. What a waste of a romantic night and a new dress.
Come on, fellas, you can do better than this...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Sand...Not So Tasty After All
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Flying
And now, the last of our Switzerland adventures...
We had to do one more thing to make our Momma cry: Paragliding.
Day 3 we put on our full-body gear again and drove up a mountain to, literally, jump off a cliff and hope the parachute properly expands. During the nauseating drive to the top, we got to choose the instructor we jumped with. Since no one spoke up, I immediately claimed the hottest one, and my sister has never let me live it down.
Once at the top of the mountain, the crazy Americans were buckled in with an experienced instructor. One after the other, we ran off the cliff. I regretted every Twinkie I ever ate as I prayed the flimsy material would keep me airborne. I ran, jumped and seriously felt the greatest freedom I'd ever felt. I saw the mountains, the glacier lakes and the town below. For the next 10 minutes, I was flying.
Then, I saw my sister in front of me, and her parachute started spiraling out of control towards the ground.
At this point, I became an irrational woman. I think I expected Big Sister Super Powers to kick in so that I could fly through the air to save her. What actually happened was that I started kicking and hitting my instructor, who was probably wishing we weren't buckled together, and screaming at him to steer us to my still-spiraling sister. When he didn't do what I asked, I actually started flapping my arms and kicking my legs to get our parachute over to her.
My instructor finally remembered his English and said, "no, no, it is a stunt! I do that with you! She is okay!"
Then, to prove his point, he let go of one of the handles and we started to spin to the quickly-approaching earth. I remembered my English at that point and said ugly words the rest of the way down.
I landed without drama and ran to my sister and made a deal that there would be no more adventures involving full-body gear. My Big Sister Powers just might have run out.
We had to do one more thing to make our Momma cry: Paragliding.
Day 3 we put on our full-body gear again and drove up a mountain to, literally, jump off a cliff and hope the parachute properly expands. During the nauseating drive to the top, we got to choose the instructor we jumped with. Since no one spoke up, I immediately claimed the hottest one, and my sister has never let me live it down.
Once at the top of the mountain, the crazy Americans were buckled in with an experienced instructor. One after the other, we ran off the cliff. I regretted every Twinkie I ever ate as I prayed the flimsy material would keep me airborne. I ran, jumped and seriously felt the greatest freedom I'd ever felt. I saw the mountains, the glacier lakes and the town below. For the next 10 minutes, I was flying.
Then, I saw my sister in front of me, and her parachute started spiraling out of control towards the ground.
At this point, I became an irrational woman. I think I expected Big Sister Super Powers to kick in so that I could fly through the air to save her. What actually happened was that I started kicking and hitting my instructor, who was probably wishing we weren't buckled together, and screaming at him to steer us to my still-spiraling sister. When he didn't do what I asked, I actually started flapping my arms and kicking my legs to get our parachute over to her.
My instructor finally remembered his English and said, "no, no, it is a stunt! I do that with you! She is okay!"
Then, to prove his point, he let go of one of the handles and we started to spin to the quickly-approaching earth. I remembered my English at that point and said ugly words the rest of the way down.
I landed without drama and ran to my sister and made a deal that there would be no more adventures involving full-body gear. My Big Sister Powers just might have run out.
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