Whew. It's been a loooong week. Wouldn't you agree? Even around here on Life Before the Bucket, things have been a little unusual. Here's a quick recap:
- We've got a free book giveaway going on until tomorrow morning at 6 AM CST. Click HERE to enter!
- I introduced everyone to Thing #1, Thing #2, and Thing #3. They're insane little secrets, so if you missed them, check 'em out!
- You guys have been beyond generous with your comments. I LOVE hearing from you, so keep it up!
Five Minute Friday!
Here are the rules, per The Gypsy Mama:
Rule Uno - Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
Rule Dos - Link back to the Gypsy Mama and invite others to join in. (GO JOIN IN!)
Rule Tres - Get a little crazy with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.
And today's prompt is...
Backwards
Ready... Set... Go!
Well, this prompt is just too coincidental. Just four days after I wrote about all of my insides being backwards (Thing #1), this is what I get to write about again. But, you know, I'm proud of it. I'm proud of sometimes living a backwards life.You see, I didn't grow up with my dad around much. He lived with us until he was 12, but even that shouldn't really count. So, because he was never around, I missed out on learning a lot of things that my mom didn't quite know how to do. For instance, I have no clue how to hunt.
However, that doesn't mean I haven't made the most of my situation. It may be backwards, but I've taught myself a lot of things that my dad forgot to tell me about. For instance, getting the girl of my dreams. I'd say I did pretty well in that department. Other than that, though, there are a lot of little things that many of us rely on fathers for direction for.
I mean, I taught myself to grill (with a little help from my mom), taught myself how to fish (with a little help from a friend), and taught myself to do some more important things, like stand firm in what I believe in.
Now trust me when I say that it wasn't easy. Though I've survived and turned out just fine, not having a dad was hard. It's still hard. I wonder a lot about what it would be like to have him around today. It was almost three summers ago that I took off to Sierra Leone, arrived back in the US, and found out my father had passed away at the age of 40. Now that was backwards.
STOP!
I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments, and feedback. What was your relationship like with your father? Or are you a dad yourself? How do you want your relationship to be different with your son than it was with your dad?
