An essay by Sherri Lynn Bailey
My Daddy is the best Daddy in the whole world. He’s big, and tall, and smart, and he can fix anything. I think he could even fix the biggest thing a person could break.
My Daddy is funny. He makes me laugh. He thinks he’s not funny, but that makes him even funnier. He says things that turn my giggle box over. Things like, “Even a blind hog’ll get an acorn once in awhile,” and “If I tell you the dewberries is ripe, you better git a bucket and commence to pickin’.”
Sometimes my Daddy says “You remember old so-and-so don’t you?” That is my Daddy’s way of telling me that old so-and-so is dead.
My Daddy did not like any of the boyfriends I brought home. He would scrunch up his face and throw the stink eye at them. “That boy would rather climb a tree and tell a lie than stand on the ground and tell the truth,” he would say.
My Daddy taught me about the birds & bees. “If a man gets in a car and knows where everything is, you know he’s drove before.”
That’s why I lost my virginity in a Chevette.
My Daddy is brave. He will pick a snake right up off the ground and kill it with his bare hands. I’ve never seen him do it, but I know he could. He’d probably shoot it first, because he likes to shoot things first and ask questions later.
My Daddy threw a fifty-cent piece up in the air when I was real little and shot it. I ran and found it. There was hole right through President Kennedy’s head. I don’t think Daddy meant anything by it.
My Daddy doesn’t like it when people get all bulled up. If you ever meet my Daddy, don’t be bulled up.
My Daddy can build anything. Sometimes he’ll just wake up and start hammering boards together and the next thing you know, there is an addition on the house. My Daddy don’t need no stinking plans.
My Daddy taught me all the important things a girl needs to know to make it in this world.
He taught me that if you have a can of paint you cannot stop painting until all the paint is gone. That’s why everything in our yard was the same color as our house.
He taught me not to take a shower when it was storming because lightening would run in on me.
He taught me that frog legs taste like chicken, that if wishes were horses beggars would ride, and if there is a good deal on apples you should buy as many bushels as you can.
My Daddy loves Jesus. I know this because he tells me all the time and because he talks to Jesus before every meal. Sometimes he says to Jesus, “Please forgive my daughter Sherri, who always forgets to pray until she already has food in her mouth.”
I think he spends a lot of time asking Jesus to look the other way when it comes to me.
My Daddy will go to Heaven someday, but not for a long, long, long time.
“I want to go to Heaven,” Daddy says. “But, if they’re loading up a bus to go today, I’d just as soon wait on the next one.”
I love my Daddy. He’s the best Daddy in the whole wide world.
PS: My Daddy can beat up your Daddy.