I’m so lucky to have the kind of father who at 50 45 years old, will close a bar drinking nothing but Jameson on the rocks.

My parents came to visit me on the island for two days. The left yesterday morning. I cried the minute I saw them, I cried the minute they left.

I showed them pretty much the entire island in one day. In a little Kia Spectra, to boot!

Something my father said while they were here that I will never forget:

“I was just thinking about the perfect vacuum cleaner.  There really isn’t one.”

I’ll let you guess how many beers ice cream cones my father enjoyed before making that priceless comment.

Last week my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Dennis came to visit me for the afternoon, and what a time we had!  I’ve never hit up so many bars ice cream shops in my life.

This visit was great for many reasons.  One, because I really was in need of a relaxing afternoon.  Two, because I had yet to really take advantage of finally being 21 years old.  But the best part of the visit?  I found out who my father really is, via a nickname I had never heard of before.  And I won’t reveal the story behind the nickname, but if you know my dad and if you see him around, just call him B.C.M.S.  I would really appreciate it.

0 Days until my mother’s birthday.  (HEY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!)

2 days until the Biking–Swimming–Kickball triathalon.

15 Days until the Stuff White People Like book comes out.

47 Days until my 21st birthday.

Wow, only 47 days?  That’s not far off at all.  I was thinking the other day it was odd that I didn’t know off the top of my head how many days until I could go out and get wasted at the bars.  Well, now I do!

Happy Father’s Day to my father who is better than your father.

I am ready and willing to argue my point in the comments of this post.