My dad is the very traditional kind of dad. He is a man. He worked, while mom stayed home. He likes sports. While I was growing up, he was pretty ungenerous with compliments, which made them worth all the more when you got one. He called me his pumpkin eater…even though I really don’t like pumpkin. He’s a good man. I’m lucky he is my dad.
My mom, sister, dad and me at my brother's college graduation.
The things I know I got from him are: a sense of humor, a trend toward being the life of the party, an amazing work ethic, my flirty nature, an entrepreneurial streak, the ability to be a really good party host, a good business head and a natural beer gut that stays even when I don’t drink beer. I took on a lot of these characteristics very early. I had a very profitable mowing and babysitting business when I was 13. I started hosting parties when I was a teenager and used my entrepreneurial tendencies to secure adult beverages. I purchased my first home at 25 and sold it for a profit. I’ve done really well in business which, I think over time, will come to include being laid-off. I know he’s proud of me, because he has said so…and he doesn’t say so unless he means it. Before we moved to Birmingham, he took my partner aside and said, “take care of my little girl.” He loves her as much as he loves me. I think I love him most because of that. No matter how old I get, I know I’ll always be his pumpkin eater and this makes me happy…even though I don’t really eat pumpkin.
Golf with my dad a few years ago...my parents are shrinking btw.