The King of San Marino

By Elizabeth Surman

Scenario Number One: I’m not sure if the directions on my math homework mean one thing or another.

Solution: Go to Dad. Scenario Number Two: I woke up late and can’t walk to school today. Solution: Ask Dad to drive me. Scenario Number Three: Mom hasn’t gotten back from grocery shopping but I’m hungry!!! What do I do? You guessed it! I’ll go to my dad and ask him to help me create a snack from ingredients in the pantry. Dad does so many things for me and here’s my chance to thank him for his kind deeds.

First things first: He’s not a quiet man. When he comes home after work and his feet slap against the tile, making a sound as loud as a wild bear’s roar, the house shudders as if it anticipates the noise that will follow his arrival. To the annoyance of my mom and two sisters, he hums constantly, like the hummingbirds that occasionally visit our yard. At my bedtime, Daddy enthusiastically barges into my room to give me a cuddle and say goodnight. To awaken me, he increases the volume on his music and sometimes tickles me. Because of this, we love him dearly.

Do you need to be cheered up? Go to my dad! His humor will make you laugh so hard it hurts. Not only does my dad tell jokes and puns, he appreciates and watches comedies. He jokes when he trips or stubs his toe (which is very often). He even wrote a book declaring himself the “King of San Marino,” the small town where we live. One of his favorite comedy shows is The Three Stooges. We go to a Three Stooges convention together every year. He loves to recall the funniest lines from different episodes and it makes me giggle.

However, my dad is very serious and devoted to his work. Sometimes, Dad stays at his office late at night, working for my family. Because of this, I think my dad makes an amazing lawyer.

Have you ever tasted a mouthful of heavenly French toast that has been prepared on the barbecue? This is the result of a creative experiment by my father. On Sunday afternoons, you might find the two of us side-by-side in the kitchen, inventing creative meals with ingredients you wouldn’t typically find in the same dish. Our best products may end up on the table that night for dinner.

Now you know almost everything about my dad except his appearance. Would you recognize him on the street if I told you that: a) Dad has curly black hair that frames his head like the fur on his pet poodle, Pandora, who he had when he was a boy; b) his hazel eyes twinkle; they are the sun bathing me in their golden rays; and c) he has a rather large nose, although he claims (in vain) that it is an optical illusion?

No matter what he looks like, I love my goofy, clumsy daddy as much as I love writing.