Daddy Issues

Like everyone, my dad has good and bad points. Unfortunately, the bad, combined with the bad points of his second wife, necessitated my distancing myself from him over 10 years ago. What people who have never had to do this don't understand is that I love my dad and admire his good points. Everyone wants everything to be black and white, but it's not like that. Even though I don't talk to him anymore, I'm proud to be his daughter. On the other hand, there were a lot of hard times. In my life, I have tried to keep the good and discard the bad. Here are a few things my dad taught me:

If you take a soda out of the fridge, put one back in.

Wash the dishes with the least grease on them first.

Take your time when you buy something. Research. Get exactly what you want. My dad was an airline pilot. Oftentimes he would buy our birthday and Christmas presents in airport gift shops. It fascinates me how he would see something during a trip, just flying through, and make sure he went back to get it the next time he was there, weeks or months later. And this was all still done in advance.

Write thank you letters.

When you write thank you letters, make sure you include your stepmom. Or else.

Guilt your children. Everything is their fault. Preferably, cry in front of them about how miserable they are making you and rant a lot.

Drama means love.

Follow fashion until you become neurotic.

Don't wear pink if you are a boy. Also if you're a boy and you're too short, do something about it. Both of these really happened to my brother. My dad actually took him to the doctor to see if something could be done about his height. This doesn't cause any type of complex...not at all...

If somebody gives you something, you'd better fucking wear it and/or display it in your house.

Make your sandwiches like Elvis. My dad was a big Elvis fan (partially because it was trendy to be so when he was a young man), and he also looks like Elvis - the handsome Elvis. There is a photo of him and my mom together in an officer's club during the Vietnam War and they both look like movie stars. Many a time my dad and I would make sandwiches together in the style of Elvis: peanut butter and slices of banana. Or, as an alternative, peanut butter and marshmallow creme. Many of my childhood happy memories revolve around peanut butter. My grandmother, who did not cook, also used to feed us a tasty peanut butter-inspired treat: a bowl filled with peanut butter and honey, a piece of bread, and a knife. Was I overweight as a child? Yes. Was that even more painful given my father's predilection for criticism, judgement and perfection? Yes. I was the one that ate too much while my brother ate too little. It took me a painfully long time to wean myself of these culinary temptations and I wouldn't say I'll ever be done so much as recovering in the same way alcoholics are recovering.

Post Edit: I didn't realize until after I published this that today is my dad's birthday.