Pappa-Hog

My dad makes me laugh.
He's pretty up to speed when it comes to computers, or most things technical. However dump him on the internet and he has little to no clue.
I was just about to jump in the shower when I heard dad wailing "JEEEEESSS!" frantically I came racing out, not sure exactly what I would be confronted with. Bit of an anticlimax really. There he sat with this ridiculous attempt at puppy dog eyes as he complained that he couldn't remember his hotmail account details. haha...he's too cute sometimes. After around 5 minutes of shuffling letters we worked it out.

I absolutely adore my parents, my family. But there's nearly always one parent who you seem a little bit more like. For majority of my life people would say that Matt looked like Dad, while Kate looked like Mum and I was somewhere in between. In actual fact I think truth be told. Matt does look like dad, while Kate had the personality of Mum and I shared my personality with my Dad. We are very different, my dad and I, but our sense of humour and annoying eternal optimist tendencies mean that we generally get along really well.

so this evening I am dedicating this blog entry to some of my finest memories with my dad.

Lets begin shall we with the tale of the blue-tongue beside the fridge.
We never knew exactly when it arrived there, just one day Matt noticed the lizard sitting back about 2 feet, between the fridge and the wall. The idea was that it would remove itself in the same way it had applied itself to life within the house.
The whole family was walking fairly lightly, rarely teetering near the fridge for very long. That was untill one morning when dad came down for a glass of milk. Having the filled the glass, he closed the door, and obviously having forgotten completely about the lizard he stood leaning against it as he drank. Not being able to restrain myself in this moment of his weakness. I suddenly screeched full throttle "THE LIZARD!"
Dads reaction was more than I could have hoped for, he lept at least a metre in the air spraying all the milk out of his mouth as he emptied the entire contents of his glass across the kitchen floor and benches, before slumping in a gasping heap in the furthest corner from the fridge.
I was in stitches for hours. The vision was too good. Mum didn't laugh so hard when she saw the kitchen. I helped clean.

Then there was the week mum headed to sydney and left Dad and myself to fend for ourselves. We handled fairly well. This was a while back now, back into my vegetarian days. The dogs were given chicken necks for dinner, which are absolutely revolting in their sliminess. For the entire week I had been feeding them, and I would use my hands to dump the chicken necks into their bowls. One night I was cooking, so dad fed the dogs. I nearly spat my drink everywhere from laughing as I walked into the laundry to see dad, wearing gloves, an apron, pinching his nose and wincing as he used the tongs to divide the chicken necks into the dogs bowls... I think I called him something along the lines of A "weak little man" which he still quotes me on.

That same week Dad headed out to soccer, upon his return at around 9:30pm he came and stood before me in the loungeroom with this strange grin on his face. As I looked at him quickly I asked "Why are there big bags under your eyes?" untill i stood suddenly realising that the white sections of his uniform were no longer white, rather they were entirely red...Blood!
Apparantly as Dad went in to head a ball, another bloke went in with the same intention. The other guy being a giant in comparison to my dad, meaning that this guys entire body weight game down on dads head. Dad was knocked unconcious for around 2 minutes as his optometrist team-buddy attempted to reduce the bleeding, by sticking his hand in [yes I said 'in'...apparantly there was a fair bit of skull showing] Dads buddy still jokes that he's surprised he didn't pass out, as there generally isn't a whole heap of blood involved in optometry.
Dad ended up being taken to the hospital and getting stitches.
He decided to head off to the shower. All I kept thinking was that if he's concussed he could very possibly pass out in the shower, so I managed to convince him to leave the door unlocked and I'd sit listening for any suspicious thumps on the bathroom floor. I couldn't imagine anything more unsettling than having to sort out your naked unconcious father. psychologivclly scarring...very possibly - needless to say I spent the whole time praying.
The next day, in a huge amount of pain, at 6pm dad starting dragging himself out of bed, with the intention of going to play volleyball with his team. To my absolute horror, he wouldn't listen. The only way I managed to stop him was through the bribing of Chocolate, Coffee milk and a movie. He's an incredibly stubborn man when he wants to be.


Then theres the way Dad used to get us to call mum "Mother dear darling ducks" if we were trying to brown-nose.
Since I can remember he's always called us kids 'Hogs' and in return we call him 'Pappa Hog'. Once when a friend was over they were absolutely perplexed, before asking "As in Pigs" to which we all looked at each other smiling and said "We're Braybrooks....Hogs fits" :P my family makes me laugh like no other.

And finally, I decided to end this with a poem I found. For fathers-day when I was a kid I wrote this little dedication to my dad, printed it off and framed it for him. I found it today as I popped in to surprise Dad for lunch - he wasn't there, but one of the other women in the office spotted me eyeing off the frame in ammusement and came over to say, "Your fathers so proud of that, sometimes he reads it, and you can see the tears in his eyes".
I'm hoping that the tears are of the joyful variety and not because it's as lame as I thought it was as I read it again.
But the sentiment is still the same. I love him so so much. Thats the joy of getting older. My family are no longer simply my family, they've become some of my best friends in the world.

For sixteen years you've been my dad,
My knight in shining armour,
My understanding friend,
My personal leaning post,
Someone to relly on.

I don't really remember the first years of life
But I like to think I made it
Without putting you through too much strife,
So I want to thank you dad,
For being my mentor,
My own personal legend,
A helping hand,
But most of all for being my friend.
A constant source of love, trust and affection.
Because of you my lifes light shines that little bit brighter,
And I wouldn't change a thing,
For I know that I am a better person,
Just for knowing you.
I LOVE YOU DAD!!