Who’s yo Daddy…

7

June 19, 2011 by Kim


It has recently come to light that even the most innocent and pure of heart have skeletons piled up in their closets….

I was raised to believe that my Mother was a Saint.

It wasn’t anything that had been beaten into me… it was just my own common knowledge of “her”

How quickly perception can change.

My awakening happened early on Friday morning.

I was pretty much “sucker-punched” into reality by an innocent book that, until then, had been laying in the middle of a conference table for the past few months.

I had glanced, out of the corner of my eye, at this book a time or two in previous meeting or luncheons.

It never dawned on me to actually pick the book up and open it.

Maybe, I never should have…

Maybe life would have still been “normal” if I had just let it lie.

“lie”

How fitting.

Bored by this particular morning meeting, I opened the book and thumbed to chapter 1.

I scanned through the words and furrowed my brow.

when I reached the end of the first page… instead of turning to page 2, I flipped the book closed and stared at the cover.

I glanced at the author’s name, baffled.  I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t, somehow…. my name.

The writing on that first page was so familiar to me…

The humor… the timing… the style…

It just REALLY reminded me of…. me.

I decided to proceed to page two and the confusion intensified.

This wasn’t a fluke.  I saw some REAL similarities.

It was almost eerie.

Screw that! 

 It WAS eerie!

As the meeting came to a close, I tucked this little Pandora’s box under my arm and jetted back to ATC’s cubicle.

I thrust the book into his hands and demanded that he read page 1… and said that he could continue on to page 2, if he wanted.

…because I’m nice like that.

He chuckled as he read while I screeched at him  “I could have written that!!! Doesn’t that sound like me?!?!?”

He laughed, closed the book and admitted that the style was indeed similar.

I gazed at the cover some more and then it happened…

A pile of bricks fell on top of me…

We had all been living a lie.

 

 I then, went to my cube and stashed the book of truth away.

Later that day, my Mom came by to see me. We engaged in some light chit-chat but I knew deep down what I had to do.

She startled as I slammed the book onto my desk.

“I know” 

it was all I felt I needed to say to her in the presence of The Book

I informed her that I was sorry and that I still loved her dirty lying ass… but that I was going to have to “out” her.

She feigned confusion… rather well, if I do say so myself.

but, she’s been lying for 33 years now… this was probably a piece of cake, for her.

Knowing that her daughter is hard-headed as a rock and that she would not be able to sway my decision, she retreated.

I promised to be nice.

So, now here it is… Sunday. 

Father’s Day…

I sit at my computer, book to the left of me…

Taunting me…

Damned Hippie Love!!!

I have already wished “Biker Dad” a Happy Father’s Day via Facebook.

I was going to sent “Scott Adams Dad” a fresh fruit bouquet, but I decided it might be too soon.   Baby steps.

 

***Happy Father’s Day BIKER DAD, I love you!!!***

 

 

 

 

 

 

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7 thoughts on “Who’s yo Daddy…

  1. Absolutely brilliant, Ms. Adams.

  2. Spectra says:

    Awww… that picture of your younger Dad and you is adorable. He was just so darned cute! How did he end up a Biker Dood???

  3. The Hook says:

    I truly enjoyed that one! Good work.

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