Superior superhero

Being a single parent must be really tough in some cases; however, being a single dad with a daughter must be even tougher. Mine handled it exceptionally well. I don’t think it’s quite possible for me to have grown up with a better dad.

He was my superhero — and still is. I admit, he wasn’t very good at braiding my hair or painting my nails. I did get very spoiled though; the town can attest to that. I got called a “spoiled brat” so many times I lost track.

When my dad used to work at Carbon County Concrete, I went with him to the shop all the time. Dad knew I would keep myself entertained and I sure did. I climbed up to the top of the sand pile and slid down as I yelled, “Dad, watch me make butt tracks down the sand pile!” I tried to do the same at the rock pile but it hurt too much. He laughed at me, but he always came over to watch.

Dad always took me on trips with him that he had to make for work. I loved it because it meant I got to ride in the semi. I felt like I was in charge because I sat in the sleeper and made dad turn on Radio Disney for nearly the entire trip. The songs played so much that he probably even got to the point where he knew most of the Hannah Montana soundtrack.

The best semi truck memory that Dad and I have together is so vivid in my mind that it feels like yesterday. We had stopped for Chinese food and taken it with us in the truck. We were driving down the road and dad dropped a piece of sticky orange chicken on the floor. He picked it up and tossed it out the window, not realizing that a car was passing us on the two-lane road. No doubt that piece of chicken landed right on their windshield. We laughed the whole way home making jokes like, “They probably thought that was one big bug!”

If we weren’t in the semi, we were in our old green Ford Expedition. When dad got too tired to drive, we would fold the back seats down and make a bed. I liked this much better than spending money on a hotel because it felt like we were camping. These times were some of my favorite childhood memories with my dad. One night he told me five or six stories of his own childhood growing up on their family ranch in Rock Springs. I still remember every one.

For example, one time my dad lost his knife while cutting grass up on the hill for the horses because he saw a deer and threw his knife at it. The knife stuck in the deer and didn’t phase him one bit, so he ran away with it. Then my dad had to walk all the way back down to the ranch to go tell my grandpa that he didn’t have any grass and why. Grandpa didn’t believe him and just thought he was being lazy.

I think my grandpa always did have some good reasons to laugh at his kids, even as they got older. My dad loves tomatoes and has tried to grow them for the last few years to be as big as the ones in grandpa’s greenhouse. Occasionally, dad would go up to grandpa’s house and get some of his tomatoes because they were so good. Dad never really had the green thumb for gardening. We always joked that he had a black thumb, since his tomatoes would always die. This year, we started our own greenhouse. The tomatoes are growing fast and doing so well. Grandpa would be so proud.

My dad and I have always supported and been there for each other. He still never misses a volleyball game, even now at the school I play for two hours away. We have such a close relationship that if someday I move clear across the country, I would still try my hardest to come visit my dad on the weekends. Well, you get my point. My dad will forever be my superhero.