My Papafather loved motorcycles and he used race on dirt ovals "professionaly." Which means he sometimes won money, but it wasn't anywhere near what competitors are winning today!
He did win trophies and in my little girl naive state of mind, I wanted to grow up to be the trophy girl. The tall, skinny, knock out who handed the trophies over to winners with more than just a peck on the cheek. Who wouldn't want to give their own daddy a congratulatory kiss?
I finally grew up and wised up to the ways of the trophy girl. However I do think my Dear Man needs to know that he is the winner in my life. I need to greet him every night with a kiss and with eyes and smile that show I think he has just completed the best race of his life. I can then hand him his trophy, a plate full of hot food.
My own daughters look forward to their daddy coming home. They rush to greet him. You could say they are the cheering section. Some day they will grow up and get married, Lord willing, and be the ones to greet their men at the finish line of the daily grind.
I'm not young or skinny, and I'm hardly a knock-out. It isn't the trophy girl and the kiss itself that a comepetitor is racing for. They want to win and they want someone to recognize that they have won. My Dear Man doesn't come home to me each day because I kiss him, he comes home because I believe in him and I recognize that he is a winner.
© Copyright 2005, 2006, 2007 High Desert Hi-Jinks, and Sagerat Scribbles. |
Feb. 8, 2007
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Nice Post
Feb. 8, 2007
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Untitled Comment
Feb. 9, 2007
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So true.
Feb. 10, 2007
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Great post...
