Posted by GIRL'S GONE CHILD | Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Growing up I was lucky to have a really, freaking hilarious Dad. I never really gave him the credit he deserved so this post is for him.
Let me paint of picture of my Dad for you. He's a physicist. He looks like a cross between Weird Al Yankovic (my father's biggest hero second to Richard Feynman) and Groucho Marx.
My Dad was the kind of father that worked hard all week and came home to his kids every night, open-armed, loving, helping us with our homework. All through his three kids' childhood he coached our little-league teams even though we all sucked at sports, showed up to school events and was never late. He tucked us in to bed every night, and he never scared any of my boyfriends away. Instead he made them laugh. He made all of us laugh. He still does.
My senior year of high school, my Dad with help from his fly-honey-bitch (my Mom) dressed up as gangstas and performed a rap in front of the entire school. It was meant to embarrass me, instead it was one of my proudest moments. I lead the standing ovation myself and laughed until tears came.
"Yo Becca, me and my wife
Want to Rap about you and your life.
Your life, we wanna rap about your life.
You called up some people to party at our pool,
Next thing you know, we had the whole school
Whole School, we had the whole school.
You know how you got such a talent for words?
Cause you come from a Family of nerds
Of nerds, you come from a family of nerds..." And then it goes on... and on...
For my eighteenth birthday my Dad wrote and performed a three-page rap for me which included the following:
"Since today you are turning eighteen
A birthday you never have seen
I thought I would write you a poem
Although at this type of writing I am kind of slow-em
I will never forget your actual birth-
Your mother was quite a bit large in the girth
You came and brought so much delight to my life
That jumping for joy were me and my wife
Those precious few years, you were learning to talk
Eating and growing like a fertilized stalk
Your love of letters and words and language was clear
Reading books with you was a time that was dear
Entering school you were shy and afraid
Home with parents is where you'd rather have stayed
In fact in our bed you wanted to camp
But alas, I was forced to tell you to scamp.
I still feel quite bad about making you go
Back to your room with your blankie in tow,
I sometimes had to close the door on your room
Or else to our bed little Becca would zoom...
... It goes on and is still front and center on the fridge, torn on the edges, faded from the sun. I still laugh out loud when I read his words back to me. I imagine him dressed up in his backward hat and bling-bling and say, "word."
With all the horror in the world and the helplessness, laughter is something that I always took for granted. I was lucky to grow up in a household where jokes were cracked regularly and we laughed until milk came out our noses at the dinner table. One of the reasons I had such a happy childhood was because we were encouraged with humor. We raised the roof, so to speak.
These days, making Archer laugh is my greatest success. I make a face or do a silly dance or make a noise and if he cracks up I have done my job. I am the champion!!! Just like my Dad was for me.
So I'm taking the torch and I'm running with it because laughter is the reason I married my husband, the reason I adore my Dad and the reason I look upon my child with such wonder. I'm pretty sure humor is the "untold secret" of parenting. At least one of them. A laughing fam is a happy one. Hee, hee. HAHAHAHAHA.
A giggle is worth a zillion words. What a gift. Thanks Dad.