While some of you have “fathers”, “pops”, “old mans”, “dads”, I happen to have a “Daddy”. Despite some raised eyebrows because I’m many decades old, this is the name I have always called him and that he answers to, although it sounds more like “daddaa” than “da-dee”. (Look, I come by this honestly – my family hails from the South, and I’m not the only old gal out there addressing her father in this way. For that matter, my grandmother went by “Grandbuddi”, which sounds like “Grandbudda” and there was my great grandmother “Ol’ Mama”, so really Daddy hardly seems like anything. Yet still, there are those that treat you like an unsophisticated hillbilly (as opposed to their distant sophisticated hillbilly cousins) and we pity them because they never had Daddy’s – they likely had “fathers” and that’s a shame. Everyone should have a Daddy.)
A few days ago, I called Dad up (he’s “Dad” in stories – hey, I’m not talking to the man, I’m talking about the man – subtle but important difference).
Me: Dad, I heard on the radio there’s only one gift that truly shows you care about your father on Father’s Day.
Dad: What’s that kid? (Yes, I’m still “kid”.)
Me: A gift certificate for a CT Heart scan from the Austin Heart Hospital.
Dad: …
Me: So, I was calling to find out if that’s what you really want.
Dad: Well, not NOW. I already know what you’re getting me. Although, I was kind of hoping for a colonoscopy.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the appropriate gift certificate that truly expressed how I feel about my Dad. I mean sure, there was the heart scan that the Austin Heart hospital assured me was the very best, but Dad already knew it might be coming. And there was that colonoscopy option, but maybe a prostate screen was a better choice… I mean, it’s always in the news. Well, not Dad’s prostate per se – that would be a bit weird, but prostates in general. I finally settled on a mixed CD (because nothing screams cheese like mixed CDs) of all the songs we used to sing together growing up with maybe an extra song or two. (Note to Charla: Dad doesn’t read this. I wouldn’t point it out until he gets a package in the mail.) Thanks to Seth for helping me track down one of the songs when Amazon and iTunes failed. I’m hoping he’s not too let down since he can’t really present the CD to any health care professional and expect too much in the way of service.
To Dad: Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! I’m sorry I don’t love you enough to get you one of those fine gift certficates. I still think you’re alright. I mean, I don’t make mixed CDs for just everyone so that’s kind of special. The last one was for Mom’s funeral and hey, you’re still alive. That’s noticeable improvement for me in the CD making department.
You’re still my favorite Dad, although I’m sure my real father was kind of special, too. You have kind of grown on me.
You know what’s great, Daddy? I probably just horrified a few people and knowing that, I’m pretty sure I made you smile.
Your favorite daughter,
Beth
The Big Blue Mess 
Heh. I, as we all know, am even more old and decrepit than you, and I also have a “Daddy”. (For what it’s worth, he also had a “Daddy”, which is probably an influencing factor for me.)
HA! I was reading along & hollered at Dad to read your blog then had to retract my holler (as per your instructions)…so “real” gift is safe. He is one lucky Daddy to have you for a daughter.
Tony,True, you are rather old and decrepit. Those six months can really take a toll on the ol’ physiology, but at least I know what I have to look forward to several months down the road. 😉Maybe it’s a family thing. Although, I must say I never called Mom “Mommy” unless I was whining at her about something – and she would respond by making the word “WHAAAATTTT?” last as long as my “Mooooommmmyyyy”.I know Mom called Buddi “Mother”, which I would only reserve for those times when I was chastising Mom for something, as in – “Mother, you can’t open those Christmas gifts!! It’s only Novemeber!!!” Which was always responded to with a “well, they shouldn’t have sent them this early, then.”