"Your Daddy"

Black Friday. It has been one of my favorites for a decade and a half now. Penny has always done a shopping marathon on the day. For many years, I kept Caitlin, our granddaughter, while Andrea, our daughter, got dragged around a dozen stores by Penny, my wife.

Even when she was a little baby, I did not mind keeping Caitlin. I remember once piling pillows around the bed so she could not roll off and watching the Iron Bowl while she slept. When Andrea and Penny got home, they could not believe I had not pulled my hair out. 

When she got older, we would park hop, go from one park to another and swing and slide and have fun. We went to Wagner, Clerico, Little Red, and the one on East Claiborne. She loved it, and I loved seeing her have fun. Then the ice-cream started. I think by then I had Caitlin and Zane. After the parks, I would take them to Sonic for a large Blast. They could not eat it all so it was Poppy to the rescue. The things grandfathers do for their grandchildren.

Fast forward to two years ago. That's when I started chauffeuring Andrea and Penny and Caitlin around Jackson so they could shop. I love it. It does, however, have some drawbacks. We went to Jackson Friday. I had a good time. I also bit blood out of my tongue. It went like this.

Penny feels compelled to constantly criticize my driving. It's predictable behavior so I try to take it in stride, but sometimes it gets tough. We drive up to the first stop a store Penny loves off of County Line Road. I am easing Andrea's Ford-something SUV to the front door so the ladies can get out.

"Your daddy is just trying to run over these people," Penny snaps.

Dude, I'm going three-miles per hour. I was worried they would get upset about me driving so slow. I let them out, and then I go to Academy Sports. I do my shopping-- fourteen minutes-- and I am done for the day. 

I drive back to the store where the girls are. I take a nap in the parking lot. Then without prompting, I wake up and drive to the front of the store. Bingo! there they are. Dang I'm good. They load stuff into the back for twelve minutes.

"Don't drive off until I get in," Penny barks.

Huh? Really?

She gets in and I take my foot off the brake. The vehicle hits one-mile per hour.

"Your daddy's going the wrong way."

Huh? There is no wrong way. You leave. That's all a person can do.

We go to the next store.

"Your daddy's just trying to run over these people," she says while we idle up at two-miles per hour. She is not joking. I tend to take things literally. That statement means:

  1. I am one mean SOB who wants to kill and maim people I do not know.

  2. I don't mind committing murder in front of our granddaughter.

  3. I am such an unskilled driver that I try but fail to hit pedestrians who are       walking en masse in front of the truck at the speed of molasses on a cold     morning.

Stop already!

I pick them up and hour later.

"Don't drive off until I get in," she announces to all the world to hear while they pack the back like a family about to head West in a covered wagon.

Yeah. Remember that time I drove off and left you and came back a week later and you were still there waiting? Me neither.

We drive off the only way you can go. You start by going the way the car is pointed then you can change directions after you roll a few feet.

"Your daddy's going the wrong way," she says again.

"Which way do you want me to go?" I sincerely ask.

"You were driving against the arrow."

"There was no arrow."

"Yes there was."

"No there wasn't."

"There was an arrow. Don't raise your voice at me!" she almost shouted.

I was talking so low I was surprised she could hear me. This is when I bit my tongue so hard that it bled a little.

We go to the next store. Right, there was no lunch. We starved ourselves so we could go to Berry's later and commit gluttony at a massive scale.

"Your daddy's just trying to run over these people," Penny says as we drive up. 

I have a question for you. Raise your hand if you like a backseat driver. I'm waiting. That's what I thought. I have told her in the past that she can drive if she likes. I never claimed to be a good driver. I have had wrecks. I have received tickets for moving violations. I  have run off the road. Several times. Drive. I can sit in the backseat. It will be my pleasure.

An hour later-- you guessed it: "Don't drive off until I'm in the car."

Then, "Your daddy's going the wrong way."

For some reason, my sweet wife (and she is sweet) finds it very important that whenever I get behind the wheel and she is in the truck, everything I do is wrong. Everything. And then I really did go the wrong way. Guess what. She didn't notice. We were on our way to Berry's. I asked, "Is this the exit?" For the first time all day I only heard crickets chirping. Crickets!

We did get there. Eventually. But not before Penny said, "Your daddy missed the turn." I didn't. Even Andrea noticed and came to my defense.

Then walking from the parking lot to the front door, Penny says, "Your daddy didn't check to see if they have a buffet. Your daddy doesn't ask questions."

Stop!!

We ate like it was our last meal. If you have never been to Berry's in Florence, go today. We chatted some about our pets, of course. I told Andrea how CC had just finished giving me my second round of the cold shoulder, how she stopped sleeping on top of me, how she stopped hanging out with me because one of the other cats spent too much time getting close.

"Why does she do that?" Andrea asked.

I wanted to speak but I dared not to say a word. Then she said it for me. "Sounds like a woman." Yes! I shouted in my mind, Yes! 

Penny then started talking about my Thanksgiving message at church last Sunday. "Your daddy said, he said, well tell her what you said."

"I said married folks have to learn to accept each other's idiosyncrasies, like 'Your daddy is just trying to run over these people.'" Andrea laughed. I glanced at Penny. She did not even get mad, not that I could tell anyhow.

When we got back to the Hideout, it was late-- after 10:00-- and everyone was tired. I hugged Caitlin and Andrea. And before they had left, I was already looking forward to next year when Penny will say, "Your daddy's just trying to run over these people." It will be a swell time, time with my girls. Thank you, Jesus, for family, for time together, for idiosyncrasies.