My Dad Could Beat Up Your Dad

When the husband and I were first married, we began a Book of Mormon collection. Over the years, we have added some pretty rare copies to our collection and we are continually hunting for more.

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For a long time, our collection was housed in cardboard boxes, waiting for us to construct a cabinet worthy of such a collection. And we didn't get around to it for a long time. One day when I was at JoAnn (remember this post all about JoAnn?) I found a cabinet for $60- it was in their unfinished wood section.

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When I got it home, the husband assembled it and our lovely collection was comfy in it for 4 years, but we were always talking about how we needed to finish it. And so, when we moved, and the books were once again packed up snug in boxes, we decided it was the perfect time to finish it. And we asked my dad if we could come into his cabinet shop and work on it. And he said to bring it by anytime and he would finish it for us.

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And so, one day when my dad was visiting, we loaded it up in his new red truck and he took it to his shop.

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Two days later he called to let us know he would be at our house in 20 minutes. With the cabinet. All finished.

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We were stoked. Couldn't wait to see what he had done with it. And when he arrived, we unloaded the cabinet and he reassembled it. Right there. In our brand new living room.

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As he was working his magic, he commented on my blog. And told me, with a wink, he was tired of reading posts about the husband's cute tush. Great feedback.

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And reading between the lines, I knew my dad needed a post about his own cute little tush. He has one. And he also has some great skills.

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When I was in college and home on summer breaks, I worked with my dad at his cabinet shop. He taught me all about hard work and wood and sanding and going with the grain and not tilting the sander and staining and whitewashing and caulking and not stripping out screws and doing a job well the first time. And these are skills that I have used in my own home as we have built dressers and armoires and shutters and tables and window casings.

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And my dad taught me all about living the gospel and being devoted to what I profess to be and loving my family and developing a testimony and serving the Lord and what to look for in a husband and how a man should treat his wife. And laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

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I love my dad. He is strong and sensitive. Wise and funny. Generous and brave. And I think he could beat up your dad, but he won't- because he's not a fighter.

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Secretly I think that no matter how much he complains about my posts about the husband's delicious buns, my mom would write a post about my dad's delicious buns. If she had a blog.

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And my dad would love it.