Posts Tagged ‘dad’

Smacksy Saturday Photo: My Dad by Bob

Saturday, June 18th, 2011 by by


As dictated by Bob to Mrs. A, his beloved pre-school teacher:

“Jeff is my dad. Um, I believe he’s sixty-five years-old. He’s very tall and weighs fifty-nine-hundred pounds. He has long hair and black eyes. Um, he works building Legos. Um, when he comes home from work he drinks everything. Um, then he plays with me and goes to bed. That’s why I love him. Oh yeah, he loses a lot when we play swords.”

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Happy Birthday Daddy

Sunday, December 27th, 2009 by by

My dad would have been 61 today. He passed away 5 years ago on April 14th, 2004. He had a massive heart attack while walking our dog that morning. He wasn’t sick, he was just taken from us too soon.

I dreamt about my dad for the first time last night, the first time in just about 3 years. I don’t really dream much, or have dreams I remember I guess I should say, but this dream was so clear. I could Feel my dad there, I woke up feeling like I literally just saw him. I didn’t just dream of his image, I felt like I was actually dealing with him, interacting with him. (more…)

In His Father’s Image

Monday, June 1st, 2009 by by

Now that K is two, I can see that every day takes him one step closer to becoming a man.  That’s why I am super-glad that my husband is around to raise him up in his image.

This morning I brought K into bed with me after he woke up.   He was in a particularly silly mood, so after jumping on my spleen a few dozen times he started speaking in tongues.

“Whoopeehoo!” he declared, his foot in my face.

“Babbaddappa, Max and Ruby!” he chortled as he poked a finger in my eye.

“Buncha crap!” he yelled as he gut checked me with his elbow.

Now, this one caught my ear because as I posted before, my husband claims that I am the one who taught K the word “crap”.  Today, however, by declaring, “Buncha Crap!”  I achieved (more…)