When I fall down, I laugh. When I run into something and bruise myself in some way, I laugh. This could be a result of higher levels of testosterone in my system, which is unlikely because I should have seen more radical symptoms by now. So the only other thing I can think of that would have caused this behavior is my upbringing. And by ‘upbringing’, I mean “one and two year old Bri running around the house with her dad tripping her as she runs past and then she laughs and starts running again”.
People tell me that I look like my dad all the time. Of course, it’s not particularly gratifying to look like a man when you’re a seventeen year old girl, but it’s nice to have some reiteration of the fact that I am indeed his daughter. (Fun fact: I wasn’t paying attention and I wrote “son”. Freudian slip?) I’m not adopted!
All sarcasm aside, though, my dad and I are strikingly similar. We have the same temperament (which is to say we both have very short fuses), the same stubborn attitude, and the same affinity for dumb people (which is to say we don’t have an affinity at all). My mom calls me “Mini Rick”, and although my dad jokingly denies any similarities when I do something stupid, he can’t deny it. We are the same person in different bodies.
My dad and I have always been close because of these likenesses, although lately it seems like they’re causing us to grow further apart. Now that I’m old enough to start forming my own, very strong, personality, we’ve starting going head to head more often. It makes me sad sometimes when we’re fighting about something stupid just because neither of us has the pride to back down.
This isn’t to say that we’re always fighting, though. Lately, we’ve been discussing politics a lot more, and he’s been following 365 Days of Bri voraciously. Last week, he emailed me from Chicago, where he was vacationing with some college friends to play golf and go to a baseball game, telling me how proud of me he was about the whole project. I don’t think I can express how much that meant to me.
I love my dad. Although there are traits about him that I see in myself that I wish I could leave behind, like the short temper and the annoying need to be right all the time, I’m the luckiest girl in the world. I couldn’t have asked for a better dad all these years. We yell, we slam doors, and we glare, but we have a connection that can’t be broken.
Ahh…Bristers…I’m crying…again. I have ALWAYS been proud of you and watching you grow up has been THE highlight of my life. Watching you turn from a teenager into a young lady is gut wrenching at times, but also incredibly fun. Just remember that YOU are a smart person and to always trust your instincts…they are good. They have to be right? Because, in part they come from me!! 😉