We have heroes and we have daddy’s and if we’re lucky…they’re one in the same.

June 12, 2014 in The Very Few Times I'll Admit to Having a Soul

You have military heroes.

You have world leader heroes.  You have sports heroes.

You have celebrity heroes.

You have all kinds.

I have my Daddy.

He lived in a house with mom and us 3 girls.   That’s a lot of estrogen.

For years, he had a “panty drawer”.  Why?  Because little girls wear panties and when the clothes were washed, dried, and folded, mom would tell us to go put them away.

“Daddy…which drawer is your panty drawer?”

Every Saturday morning, we’d get up and mysteriously, there were donuts on the kitchen cabinet.  As I got older, I discovered it was Daddy getting up early bringing back donuts.  I then asked him to wake me up so I could go with him, because then I could have him to myself for a little while.

Until I was probably 10 or 11, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and go tap him on the shoulder while he slept.  I’d whisper, right in his face, with my no-I-didn’t-brush-my-teeth-before-bed-like-momma-told-me breath:

“Daddy, can I lay by you?”

He worked hard.  A brilliant business man.  He owned a business with no 401(k) or pension or some kind of retirement thing.  He had to plan that all himself.

Yet he was able to retire before 60.

(Thank you, Jesus, for my 401(k) since it seems I can’t save for a drizzly day, much less a rainy day.)

It was a rule that at 14, I was going to work.

At his office.

Dusting shelves.  Unpacking boxes.  Rearranging things.  Vacuuming.  Just whatever needed to be done.  His employees tolerated me and kept me busy showing me how to work a cash register and greet a customer.

If I was late, my paycheck was docked.

(Some weeks, I owed him.)

I started driving.  He would randomly inspect “my” car (that he bought, of course), and the keys would get yanked from my selfish hands and I’d be back on the big, yellow school bus, if:

1.  The radio was up too loud (because you can’t hear an ambulance or police car coming)

2.  The gas registered less than 1/2 a tank (because if there’s an emergency, the last thing I want you having to do is stop to fill-up)

3.  Any sign of cigarettes or alcohol (because you will die by my hands)

I busted right through that third rule.

At 17, I was cool and cruising through my small town with a Bartles and Jaymes strawberry wine cooler tucked right between my legs.  With 3 of my girlfriends.

The radio was kinda loud, so I didn’t hear the siren behind me.

Apparently, I busted right through that first rule, too.

(And let’s just top it off…the gas tank was probably on empty.)

I got my first MIP.

Minor in Possession.  Of an alcoholic beverage.

(No big deal.  I got this.  I ain’t telling anybody because I work and make my own money and I’ll just pay the fine myself.  Whoop-de-doo.)

Little did I know, Daddy had breakfast every single morning of his going-to-work life with the small town judge at the little local café.

Daddy knew about that MIP before the ink on it dried.

He said nothing.

When it was my day to “appear in court” (which was just a small office with a messy desk and a rather stout Judge Ward with a giant hat on sitting behind that desk), he was asked at breakfast, “So…what do you want me to do with your girl when she comes in today on that MIP?”

Daddy:  “Scare THE SHIT out of her.”

When I left the judge’s office, I went straight to Daddy’s office.  Crying.  Hard.  Praying to Jesus.  Hard.

I had to tell him I was going to the big house and gonna do hard time and (which in my mind meant a ball and chain around my ankle and a black and white stripe jumpsuit) probably gonna end up on death row because people who drink and drive kill people and that was the life I was headed for.

(Damn, Judge Ward was good.)

He said he’d call the judge and see if there was maybe a fine I could pay instead.  Little did I know, he was in on this the whole time.

(Adios next month’s paycheck.)  (Good-bye car and don’t ask when you’re getting it back.)

More than 712 times, Daddy has said, “Let Dear ol’Dad, give you some unsolicited advice” then he would proceed with it.  And he was always right.

His best unsolicited advice ever:  “Never impose your values on others.”

Daddy always stays back in the shadows.  He’s always there when we need him, but he let’s us shine in our own light.

Daddy taught me to take up for myself, he taught me to tolerate, he taught me to two-step.

He’s let me fly on my own, and he’s clipped my wings when they needed it.

He’s given advice and he’s let me learn on my own.

But he’s never failed me.

He’s never disappointed me.

He’s never left my side.

He’s never forgotten me.

He’s never not prayed for me.

He’s never not put my needs before his.

He’s extended grace when it wasn’t deserved.

He’s offered a hand when it wasn’t appreciated.

He’s shown me what to look for in a husband and how to love others with grace.

He’s my hero and he’s my Daddy.

And I will always be his little redheaded girl.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

You’ll never know how much I love you.

Dad

Dad Work

katie metzroth June 12, 2014 at 11:24 am

I’m really glad your MIP story did not end more tragically……WHAT if I”d never known you?!?! Good for your dad and the judge. 🙂 and good for your for having such a great dad.

and bc I’m feeling lazy…
Good for your husband. That was a beautiful piece!
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Carrie June 12, 2014 at 11:29 am

Aww…thanks my sweet friend!

Yeah, you would be having to come visit me in the pokey if things worked out a little differently back then, huh?

=)

Lynda Ingram June 12, 2014 at 11:25 am

I am touched and amazed at the article you wrote on your Dad. He is an amazing man and you are one amazing daughter! So proud of you!

Carrie June 12, 2014 at 11:28 am

Thank you, Lynda! I’m lucky…I did really good in the “daddy” category!

Melinda Stanton June 12, 2014 at 11:28 am

Another wonderful one! Maybe the best one yet. Love those Scarboroughs!

Carrie June 12, 2014 at 11:30 am

Thank you, Melinda…they both get better and better!

DOD June 12, 2014 at 12:08 pm

Thank You so much … and, yes you are … and, yes I do know … !
DOD

Carrie June 12, 2014 at 12:15 pm

Good.

And even gooder.

(Sorry. Mom failed with me at grammar.)

=)

Peggy Scarborough June 12, 2014 at 1:17 pm

…and you forgot to refer to Lynda and Melinda as Mrs. Ingram and Mrs. Stanton…
I’ll let it slip this time ‘ cause your Daddy taught me a few things, too…awesome sauce!

Carrie June 12, 2014 at 1:31 pm

You’re right.

Everybody has a title.

Miss June, Ms. Pam, and Miss Laura…the ladies at his office.

That one slipped!

Lisa Hewitt June 12, 2014 at 1:54 pm

The world would be a better place if everybody had a daddy like Mr. Scarborough. You are blessed indeed.
Ya’ll really should think about adopting me!
Happy Father’s Day Mr. Scarborough! (and your hubs too)

Carrie June 12, 2014 at 2:22 pm

You’re very right. My dad is the cream of the crop.

He’s the old fashioned kind who takes care of us but doesn’t smother us. And certainly never let us get away with much.

Heck, I was grounded more than not in high school! I tried to get away with everything!

Adelyn June 12, 2014 at 6:06 pm

Dads are the best. Mine died 9 years ago and I miss him every single day. Every single one. And I know it is because he was so wonderful. And I am so glad you have one equally wonderful. What a wonderful tribute to him!
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Carrie June 13, 2014 at 7:49 am

Adelyn, I’m so sorry and I wish your dad was still here.

That will be the hardest day of my life. There’s this song by Conway Twitty from like 112 years ago called, “That’s my Job”. I’ve never been able to listen to it without sobbing. Good Lord, just thinking about it now gets me all teary-eyed.

Thank you for your kind words. There is no doubt in my mind, your dad would be so proud of the fantastic girl he raised. You are truly a genuine heart. =)

Alison June 14, 2014 at 8:15 am

Awww. What a great man, and a fabulous father.
Happy Father’s Day to him!
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Amber June 16, 2014 at 1:13 pm

What a nice post for your Dad! He sounds like a great guy.
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Joy Christi June 17, 2014 at 12:38 pm

WOW, you got a good one! Good for you.
I learned to drive in the late 80’s, we did pretty much what you did and we just figured we HAD to because where ELSE were we going to go? It’s a wonder we got through 🙂
Hooray for dads and their lessons! I had some weird ones, like how to keep “Mugger Money” in a different pocket in case a bully wanted your money. Then they would only get a couple bucks, instead of all of it. We lived in a pretty safe, boring suburb so thankfully I never needed this advice but it’s funny to think about that now.
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Traci June 18, 2014 at 9:20 am

Love this and the mip story!!!! Good stuff.

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