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| found on google images |
SHORT STORY
Dear Dad,
Happy birthday! It’s me. Your favorite (and only!) daughter. I was thinking about you last night and trying to write a matching poem for your card. You’d better like it, it took forever to rhyme.
I kept remembering all these crazy memories instead, so as a birthday present, I’m going to list them for you. Ready?
First, remember the day we were fixing the front porch? I was holding the light for you and talking about everything I did that week, including my newest story. You weren’t really paying attention and just for a laugh I said. “So I can keep on talking and you’ll never hear a word I say, right?” And you said. “Right. Hand me that screwdriver.”
Second-That one time I went with you to work and you forgot your cell phone, I told you to “Call home and tell mom to bring it.” We laughed halfway to work.
Happy memories, huh? I finally upgraded my driver’s license. The picture came out good and they finally took off that little red bar that says “under 21”. I never would’ve gotten it without you. Thanks for taking the time to teach me to drive.
I remember my first time driving. I was so scared. You weren’t helping much either when you kept pointing out everything on the road. For example, the dead can and leaf.
And the first time I went to get you coffee? I was terrified I’d plow right into the side of McDonald’s. I was in such a hurry to get going, I forgot to say hi to the girl who took my change and couldn’t hold all the creamer in one hand, so I dumped it on the passenger seat. This, in case you’re wondering, is the reason you stepped on one the next day. Afterwards, I had to park in a corner to get my nerves under control. I was shaking so bad-it was ridiculous. All for a cup of coffee.
Remember the first time you taught me to make instant? You told me to use your favorite cup, heat it for a minute and a half. Get the coffee and add a half teaspoon and stir. Check the color. Add another half teaspoon and stir again. It should be black and then add the creamer.
I did exactly what you told me, except for the coffee didn’t get very black, so I had to keep adding more. I guess I got it backwards though, because I only put in two spoonfuls of creamer and that made it turn a nice brown. No wonder you said it was three cups in one.
Oh, and that quiz. The one that said you were a lion for leadership and managing skills. I really thought I would be just like you and instead I turned out to be a beaver. Which meant I was a perfectionist and liked things to follow in a logical order.
I guess that’s kind of like when people tell me I look like you. Sometimes I think it’s a compliment. And then I remember it’s because we work so well together.
Anyway, this letter is turning into my latest novel. I’ll end it here and wish I was there to help eat your cake (and the frosting!).
Love,
Your dearest, darling daughter,
Sherina
(c) Sara Harricharan
A/N: This is a “repost” from an old FWC entry for the topic of “humor” in honor of Father’s Day for my Dad–who did actually warn me about a dead leaf during those long-ago days of driving school. ^_^