Today being Father's Day, I thought I'd share one of my favorite stories of my dad.
When I was three, we used to live in an old apartment complex. On Halloween, all the little kids would run around trick-or-treating around the complex. To signal that you were willing to give out candy to the kids, you had to turn on the porch light outside your door. It was the first year we were living there and we weren't aware that if you had your light off, no one would come to your door. They would just assume that you don't want to give out candy or that no one is home.
As a little 3-year-old, the idea of passing out candy to trick-or-treaters seemed even more exciting than trick-or-treating for myself. My parents took me out to knock on a few doors, but I was eager to get back home so I could pass out some candy. I sat by our front door, dressed in my little clown costume, waiting for kids to come by and ring the doorbell. I must have waited for over an hour. No one came. My mom tried to get me to go to bed because it was getting late, but no matter how sleepy I was, I refused to budge until someone rang the doorbell. My dad announced that he had to go take out the trash and he left.
Finally, I heard a loud knock at the door. I excitedly look over to my mom to see if I can answer the door. She nods. I open the door and look up to see a grown man dressed in an overcoat, a top hat, sunglasses and a scarf covering his face. He looked like the Invisible Man! In a deep gruff voice he bellows, "Trick or Treat!" In awe, I drop a few candy bars into his plastic grocery bag. He mumbles out a thanks and walks away.
A few minutes later, my dad comes back and asks if any trick-or-treaters came by. I quickly tell him about the mysterious trick-or-treater who just left. My dad listened attentively and told me I was a good girl for giving out candy. He tucked me into bed and that was the end of it. I never forgot that trick-or-treater.
It wasn't until years later that my mom told me that the trick-or-treater was my dad. She said that my dad felt so sorry for his little girl waiting by the door for trick-or-treaters who will never come that he decided to dress himself up and pose as one.
This is one of my favorite stories because I didn't find out that he did this for me until several years later. It reminds me that fathers probably do a ton of things for us that we aren't even aware of. They don't do it for recognition. They don't do it for thanks. They do it because they're our dads.
What are your favorite memories? Happy Father's Day!
My dad and me at Hoover Dam this year
When I was three, we used to live in an old apartment complex. On Halloween, all the little kids would run around trick-or-treating around the complex. To signal that you were willing to give out candy to the kids, you had to turn on the porch light outside your door. It was the first year we were living there and we weren't aware that if you had your light off, no one would come to your door. They would just assume that you don't want to give out candy or that no one is home.
As a little 3-year-old, the idea of passing out candy to trick-or-treaters seemed even more exciting than trick-or-treating for myself. My parents took me out to knock on a few doors, but I was eager to get back home so I could pass out some candy. I sat by our front door, dressed in my little clown costume, waiting for kids to come by and ring the doorbell. I must have waited for over an hour. No one came. My mom tried to get me to go to bed because it was getting late, but no matter how sleepy I was, I refused to budge until someone rang the doorbell. My dad announced that he had to go take out the trash and he left.
Finally, I heard a loud knock at the door. I excitedly look over to my mom to see if I can answer the door. She nods. I open the door and look up to see a grown man dressed in an overcoat, a top hat, sunglasses and a scarf covering his face. He looked like the Invisible Man! In a deep gruff voice he bellows, "Trick or Treat!" In awe, I drop a few candy bars into his plastic grocery bag. He mumbles out a thanks and walks away.
A few minutes later, my dad comes back and asks if any trick-or-treaters came by. I quickly tell him about the mysterious trick-or-treater who just left. My dad listened attentively and told me I was a good girl for giving out candy. He tucked me into bed and that was the end of it. I never forgot that trick-or-treater.
It wasn't until years later that my mom told me that the trick-or-treater was my dad. She said that my dad felt so sorry for his little girl waiting by the door for trick-or-treaters who will never come that he decided to dress himself up and pose as one.
This is one of my favorite stories because I didn't find out that he did this for me until several years later. It reminds me that fathers probably do a ton of things for us that we aren't even aware of. They don't do it for recognition. They don't do it for thanks. They do it because they're our dads.
What are your favorite memories? Happy Father's Day!