A Man Like My Dad

Today as I drove home from work, Brad Paisely's I'm Still A Guy came on the radio. 

I got to thinkin, "Yep. That's my Dad for sure."

These days there's dudes getting facials
Manicured, waxed and botoxed
With deep spray-on tans and creamy lotiony hands
You can't grip a tacklebox...

Oh my eyebrows ain't plucked
There's a gun in my truck
Oh thank God, I'm still a guy.

Granted, this may be a bit exaggerated, but the part about lotiony hands made me laugh. 

That's my Dad to a T. 

Growing up and even now, I feel as if there isn't a thing in the world that my Dad can't do. 

He can fix a broken down car, he can carry zillion pound suitcases up stairs. He can yank a snow-buried snowmobile out of the side of a mountain, he can help me submit my taxes, he can build me a Barbie house. He can study the scriptures every single day even though he dislikes reading, he can give me a blessing anytime I need it, he can advise on life decisions. He can patiently listen to me vent and then talk me through many a "boy trouble." He can be patient through the tears of teaching a girl how to mow the lawn, mind her mother, water ski, build a fire, fix a car, and be on time. He can gently brush my long, wet, tangled hair, he can pick a large knot in a necklace. He can put a little girls hair in pig tails, and sit through a daughters recital. He can silently smile as we giggle through family prayers, he can shed a tear as his daughters grow up. 

But always always, there isn't a thing in this world that my Dad can't do.

Yes, my Dad is a man of many talents. He has set the standard high to be sure, it'll be hard to beat, but one of these days I'll find a man, a manly man, who is just like my wonderful Dad.