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this blog follows the life of a fictional character. i know, i know, it sounds like it could be true, and some of it is. but it's mostly WAY exaggerated and not meant to be taken seriously. i mean honestly, who would be THIS ridiculous in real life? also, no vaginas were harmed in the making of this blog. and lastly, this disclaimer is mostly bullshit also. but my therapist made me do it.

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Don't get me wrong, my dad would be *lucky* to date me

My dad recently moved back to town. And by recently I mean like 2 weeks ago. He’s been living in Kauai for the last 6 years and I think he missed me so much that finally one day he said, “Screw paradise. I’m going back to Texas to be near my awesome daughter” was tired of paying the ridiculous taxes. Hawaii ain’t cheap y’all.

Anyway, my dad is a handsome man. Like for real handsome.

I call him the Silver Fox.

Because he is COMPLETELY gray headed. And he is foxy. (Is it weird and Arkansas-ish that I just called my dad foxy? Also, my apologies to my Arkansas relatives and friends. But honestly isn’t this exactly the kind of thing you’ve come to expect me to say?)

So, yesterday I drove to his house for the first time. It still feels strange to be able to jump in my car and see him in 30 minutes versus flying 8 hours and across 3 times zones. I have to say I like this way much better. Although I will miss the palm trees and all the chickens that run amok.

After seeing his house, yada yada, I suggested we go to lunch. Five minutes later, we were being seated at a table in a popular mexican restaurant.

And that’s when I started noticing. The looks. People were looking at us (we *are* a handsome pair) and whispering amongst themselves. I checked out my dad’s ensemble. Hmm. No. It wasn’t his clothes. He was dressed like any other retired dude. T-shirt, ball cap, shorts, leg boot on his right foot (for his achilles heel–which by the way, makes him terrible at driving–and by terrible I mean he braked and accelerated so aggressively that my head slammed against the windshield 14 times in the 5 minutes we in the car–I drove the rest of the time we were together). But even in the ridiculous boot he was a perfectly acceptable non-embarrassing lunch companion. Plus, he was buying.

And I was *sure* it wasn’t *me* they were talking about. As if.

We talked a lot (mostly about the post I put up yesterday–funny, when you meltdown online people start doing weird things like removing any and all sharp objects you might come across–needless to say it was not easy eating my enchilada with a spoon, but whatever).

Anyway, since he’s new in town, he has no car yet. So he asked for my help in finding him one. We drove to the dealership and walked inside. Immediately it was assumed we were a couple. Me. And my dad. And the reason I know this is because the woman referred to us as such.

Eww.

And then I realized what the people in the restaurant were staring at! They assumed that this dirty old man and me (aka, hot, young–ok, young-ish–chick were together. Like together, together. Which? Is disgusting. You people ought to be ashamed.

I am not dating a much older man. Who is also my dad. I mean I love my dad, but I don’t *love* my dad.

But people, please. You would realize he’s my dad if you peeled your eyelids open and looked us in the face. WE LOOK EXACTLY ALIKE.

And scarier than that? We ACT the same too. Which can get annoying and wear you out very quickly if you’re not expecting to be blindsided by two professional smartasses.

Anyway, I couldn’t correct the woman fast enough. No offense, Dad.

So after spending time yesterday and realizing that now he’s back we’ll be spending A LOT of time together, we need to wear t-shirts when out in public so people don’t get the wrong idea.

Mine will say: Stop staring! He’s my dad you pervert

His will say: I’m not hitting that…she’s my daughter

or something like that.

Anyway…Yay! My dad’s back!

PS. Leave your t-shirt slogans in the comments section.

PPS. Thanks again for all your love and support.

PPS. And thank you to whoever sent me flowers. I wish you’d signed your name.

PPPS. Did I mention it’s nice having my dad back in town?

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