My dad's better than your dad

My grandma decided to move to Utah last month. The move down ended up being lots of fun for us girls. Dad, along with Uncle Terry, accompanied grandma on the move. All growing up there never was a dull moment around our household, and dad coming down to Utah proved that dull moments don't follow him. We were constantly entertained. This visit made me realize how nervous I am to bring a guy around my family (especially the Megan-Dad combo). The two of them would sit and discuss things openly that I am sure are not discussed around anyone else's dinner tables (use your imagination, and I am sure you will hit the nail on the head).

I hate not knowing how to fix my car, and it was needing new brakes....perfect timing, right when dad was coming! Since he knows how to fix anything on a car, I batted my eyes and asked if he could change my brake pads. Of course he couldn't turn his favorite daughter down. I wanted to watch so that I could do it next time. I was perched on a bucket right behind, and probably irritatingly close, watching my dad in his coveralls get splattered with brake juice. Even though it was dirty, it looked pretty simple-or so I thought. Then we got to the stubborn pistons...leave it to me to have a stubborn vehicle. After a trip to Checkers to buy more tools, a couple choice words dropping, and an extremely quiet hour of battling the piston, my dad looked at me with brake juice down his face and told me it was impossible and that it needed to be taken in. NOOOOOOO!!!! I didn't want to pay a ridiculous amount to have something done that my dad was capable of doing. Obviously, being a former primary student I prayed. I think I may have sent five or so prayers out during that painfully frustrating hour. Right after the last prayer, I heard a click. My dad turned to face us girls with a smirk on his face. He looked back and forth from Megan to me, and what came out of his mouth shocked me and made me laugh hysterically--"alright you two, who's been praying? Come on, someone has. This dang piston didn't just turn on it's own!" We were laughing so hard, inducing hiccups. My hiccups came and went for the remainder of the night. I think it was so funny to us because my mother is often guilty of reverting back to her primary ways when dad says something can't be done. We, with the help of someone else, prove him wrong quite often. My brakes were fixed! Thanks dad!

I also have to share a story that I heard about while he was down. When Megan was getting ready to go to a formal dance in high school, my dad realized that he was tired of the expensive, scandalous formal dresses. Wanting to prove that he could find an affordable, modest dress, he gets on ebay and started bidding on a formal, seemingly modest, dress. He was excited to win the bidding while only spending $15. The dress came, and feeling proud that he was going to prove my mom and sister wrong, he had Megan try it on. Mom and Megan were laughing pretty hard, cause dad was about to be humbled. The dress was cut so high, her booty practically hung out. With hands thrown in the air, he realized he would not win the formal dress battle.

Oh, and he can also dance, strike a pose for the camera, fish, shoot, tell us girls when we need to put new material on our blogs, feed the grandsons pickles, and he even lets us all win at the games we play around the table-even though he pretends to be trying his hardest to win, etc....... He either does it all or keeps a straight face while pretending he knows what he's doing.

I am pretty sure this means that my dad is better than your dad!