I'll blog about you

At 25, I'm not afraid to say it. I still call both of my parents mommy and daddy. I still talk to them almost every other day, even when I'm busy. I know that if I don't call them, they call me. The first words out of their mouths are usually "Are you OK?" followed by, "We haven't talked in a while."

I won't deny that I do call them looking for inspiration to write. For instance, Thursday evening before my school board meeting, I called my father.

"I don't know what to blog about this week," I said.

"Blog about something you love," he said.

"I'll blog about you," I replied.

"Just be truthful," he said with a laugh.

My father is a good man. He's sacrificed a lot for his children and between the three of us we tested him greatly. I know there was more than one occasion where I would pick a fight with him. My grandfather would always tell me he knew when dad and I would fight because loud yelling would be heard coming from the house.

However, even when I forgot to put oil in my sister's car and I blew up the engine, I knew he still loved me. I won't deny that I learned a valuable lesson; I have the oil changed regularly.

Regardless of the trouble my siblings and I were grateful to have him there to yell at us. Now that we are adults we understand the curfew, arguments and punishments were because he loved us.

Daddy I don't say it enough, I love you. Thanks for saving my life a few times and I'm sorry for the grey hair. See you next week!