Happy Birthday, Dad-- Wish you were Here!

I woke up this morning to yet another carton of curdled milk, and these other things: the kitchen sink drains verrrrry slowly, and the hot tap on the kitchen faucet turns off only after 100 fierce turns. There was a pile-up of dishes from last night: Evan's bottles, a pan and a roasting tin from making chicken stock, my mug and coffee press. It was a vile sight indeed. And though I know I looked the part of Crazy Housewife ready to brandish butcher knife--complete with tangled hair and mascara circles under the eyes--I rescued myself from a tantrum by thinking: "WWDWMTD" or, What Would Dad Want Me to Do?

Well, Dad would want me to act assertively (sanely). Dad would want me to organize (not terrorize) and mobilize (not be petrified with fear). Dad would want me to be Positive. Dad would want me to keep my humor and my wits. You know what? I did.

I completed the laborious laundering; I figured out how to make that bitchy tap work--turn the water on all the way, then crank it off; I made a mental note to make sure that Housing Services was aware of the fridge issue, sans threats of death and other assorted violence; I let very hot water run down the sink until it seemed less clogged, and then I washed the dishes with a spring in my step (though that might've been caffiene).

I know you're thinking this post is all about me, and my trials of Life in Dublin. Well, it isn't. This post is really about my Dad, and to recognize all the things that he has taught me about life. Lessons about fixing things, problems or faucets, are the same as lessons on how to be a good person. Seems that I am capable of both (surprise!).

Happy Birthday, Dad! I wish you many more years so we can all continue to learn about life and laughter from you! I love you in Dublin as I do anywhere else I go-- infinitely!