Daddy Issues

I remember it like it happened yesterday. It was my junior year of college, and my dad came into town for a football game. In true Alabama fashion, my friends and I rallied together to create one of the best tailgates of our college career. The seven-layer dip was perfect. The pimiento cheese was pristine. Care for a jello shot? Not to worry, we’ve got a sampling of all the latest flavors. We even scored a party platter of chicken nuggets from Chick-Fil-A. It was a true success.

My dad, too, was having a great time spending the weekend at his alma mater. He laughed with my friends’ parents as we all chanted “Roll Tide” over and over again. An OB/GYN by day, I could tell he was relieved to have a few days off from work.

And then it happened. I handed Dad my camera. “Dad, could you take a picture of all of us?” I asked. “Of course!” he happily replied.

Just as we achieved the picture-perfect pose my dad shouted it. “Okay girls,” he yelled, “Smile like you’ve just taken a negative pregnancy test!”

I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty confident I blacked out shortly after that comment.

Miraculously, I didn’t lose any friends that day. (Does dignity count as a friend?) I did, however, have an Oprah-like “a-ha” moment and realize that this could be one of the reasons why I have “daddy” issues. And by daddy issues, I mean a twisted sense of humor and an inability to allow any potential suitor the opportunity to meet my dad.

Thanks, Dad.