Thursday, April 7, 2011

Daddy's Girl

Ask my mother and she will tell you that I am a daddy's girl.  In her version of the truth this was apparent while I was still in the womb, causing her nothing but heartache (or was it heartburn?).   I believe, as the second child, I quickly assessed the situation, recognized my older sibling was solidly entrenched as "Mommy's favorite", so went for what was available.

There were flaws in my logic.  I was my mother's second child, but not my father's, so the position was not vacant.  Also, according to both my parents, I was not an engaging child who demonstrated need, affection or smiles.  My dad called it self-sufficient, Mom called it snotty.   The final strike against me, as you can see, was homeliness.

More siblings followed, one before I even learned to speak.  By all accounts my new, younger sister was born with skills I would have to acquire and had it all over me.  She was cute, charming and loving.  She squeezed me out.  But I took the long view, and I was willing to do what it took.  I went to more football, basketball and baseball games than I can count. I worked on the car, and rode the dirt bike.  I hung on his every word.  When he said Americans don't have to do anything they don't want, I took it to heart and refused to practice cursive in school.  Vigilance and perseverance were key.

The others couldn't keep their eye on the ball in the end.  They lost interest and gained lives, but not me.

That's why I'm a winner!

Me, Deni and Dana

3 comments:

  1. I will take a guess and say we still lived in Richmond when this was taken. I do not recognize the back ground.
    You seem to find the most flattering pictures to post on here.
    Cute, charming and loving...I was born before you not after...never would have put those words to the next sibling but guess that is why this is YOUR blog.
    Homely is a nice word to describe that poor picture. Looks like somebody placed your butt in that spot and we had to be placed beside you as not to disturb you...wow what a look on your face...happy, happy child!!!lol love ya

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  2. I am still trying to comment on this.
    Damn Facebook

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  3. I would have no idea where this was taken.No one I knew had a picket fence

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