Dad-isms

As individual as fingerprints, the words and gestures people use make up part of their portrait.  People don't often realize what phrases they are known by family and friends to say regularly.  To hear  that one's words are memorable can be a treat.  My siblings and I compiled a list of our Dad's "Dad-isms" last year for Father's Day and below is a small sampling.  Even if you don't know my Dad, you can glean a little idea of what kind of person he is just by these few sentences, which he often delivers with his teasing half-smile.

     Who's gonna have fun, gonna have fun, gonna have fun?  We're gonna have fun, gonna have 
     fun, gonna have fun!  Who's gonna have fun?  We're gonna have fun!  Alright!

     It's not what you know, it's not who you know, it's who your Dad knows.

     Nothing is too good for us Burnses.

     What's the worst thing that could happen?

     It is always good to refresh your wardrobe.

     How about writing a pro and con list to help you make a decision?

     Everyone needs something to believe in, I believe I'll have another beer.

     I think we should go to bed so these nice people can leave.

     Let me give you a round [gesturing] of applause.

     You are going to grow up to be a genius.

Happy Father's Day Weekend and a special shout-out to my very own Dad, aka The Fun Master.  And for every father, I wanted to share this poem to take you back to that time when you were dreaming of meeting your child.  It's a good one.

    Upon Seeing an Ultrasound Photo of an Unborn Child

    Tadpole, it's not time yet to nag you
    about college (though I have some thoughts
    on that), baseball (ditto), or abstract
    principles. Enjoy your delicious,
    soupy womb-warmth, do some rolls and saults
    (it'll be too crowded soon), delight in your early
    dreams — which no one will attempt to analyze.
    For now: may your toes blossom, your fingers
    lengthen, your sexual organs grow (too soon
    to tell which yet) sensitive, your teeth
    form their buds in their forming jawbone, your already
    booming heart expand (literally
    now, metaphorically later); O your spine,
    eyebrows, nape, knees, fibulae,
    lungs, lips... But your soul,
    dear child: I don't see it here, when
    does that come in, whence? Perhaps God,
    and your mother, and even I — we'll all contribute
    and you'll learn yourself to coax it
    from wherever: your soul, which holds your bones
    together and lets you live
    on earth. — Fingerling, sidecar, nubbin,
    I'm waiting, it's me, Dad,
    I'm out here. You already know
    where Mom is. I'll see you more directly
    upon arrival. You'll recognize
    me — I'll be the tall-seeming, delighted
    blond guy, and I'll have
    your nose. 

    ~Thomas Lux