This is simply going to have to be one of the most cheese ball posts I've ever written.  There's no way around it.  I love my dad so frakin much it almost brings me to tears just thinking about it.  So here it is guys; my unabashed hero worship of the tree to my apple.

Being around my dad is completely effortless for me... and come to think of it for others as well.  He is just so open and kind and he genuinely cares about people.  A simple hug from my dad can create the safest place I can even think of.  He's so tall that he has to look down to kiss the top of my head.  But he's not just cheesy and cuddly, my dad is incredibly nurturing.  

He planted the seeds of my narcissism at a very young age by  teaching me to say 'I'm remarkable'.  It was one of the first phrases I retained.  

He told me that I needed to work hard in school so that I could go to college and get a good job because he didn't want me to be dependent on 'some man.'  I took it to heart too.  If college hadn't been so important to my parents I may not have pushed through it.

He taught me that being a good person meant doing the right thing even when nobody is looking.  The lesson was incredibly simple too.  All he did was grab a stray shopping cart from the grocery store parking lot and put it in the cart return.

"Why'd you do that, Daddy?  You didn't use that buggy."   I think I was like 7.

"Because that buggy might have hit someone's car and now it won't."

He probably doesn't even remember the exchange, but it had a huge impact on me.  It's amazing to think that nearly every truly 'good' deed I've done was probably initiated by that one small scene from our lives.  My little brain tried to wrap itself around what it meant to go out of your way to do the right thing.  And if that would make me more like him then I was going to make it a part of myself.

My dad also has no boundaries as far as conversation goes.  This is simply a Munger trait.  None of us have a filter, but I do know that we come by it honestly.

I remember one day, again I was like 6 or 7, I was watching television with him and he surfed over VH1.  'Vogue' was on.  

"Madonna's sexy."  he said.

"What's sexy?"  I asked.

"... Madonna."  he answered simply.

And that's how I learned the word sexy... it meant Madonna.

Come to think of it, this probably explains a lot about me.

I also learned from him some of the worst words I've ever heard.  "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed." 

I'm not sure how many times I've disappointed my dad, but I do know that there's almost nothing in the world that feels worse that hearing those words pass his lips.  I'd rather walk on broken glass than disappoint my dad, and that's not an exaggeration.  But trying to ensure he doesn't have to say this has created some of the best parts of me.

One of the things he respects a lot in a person is independence.  Now, I've probably taken my own independence more seriously than I should at times.  It sometimes bites me in the ass because I try to take on more than I can handle and hate to ask for help.  But it's also given me the strength to really try to make a life for myself.  I'm not afraid to look at this world and say "I can do that."  And the fire in my belly grows even bigger when someone tells me I can't.  And I owe this to him, because he started telling me at a very young age that I could do anything.

But one of his greatest strengths is explaining things in a way that's so simple and easy to understand.  

My absolute favorite story involving him involves an explanation about monogamy.

I was about 8 or 9 and I'd just learned that porn movies and skin mags existed.  And there was something I just didn't understand about them.

"Daddy, why would a married man want to look at dirty movies or dirty magazines?  They're married to the only person they want to be with, they shouldn't want to see those things."

He paused for a moment.  I'm sure he was concocting some delicate way to explain this to his precious, but overly inquisitive, little girl.  This is what he came up with:

"Well, you see baby, it's like ice cream.  Let's say your favorite flavor is chocolate and you know that's the best ice cream for you. You never want to order another flavor... Don't you think you'd at least want to see what other flavors the ice cream place has?  Not taste them or anything, but just see what they have?"

This made a lot of sense to me.  After this I not only better understood the spectrum of human relationships, I also developed a very strange attachment to my Cotton Candy Explosion ice cream.

It would take years to explain everything that makes him so amazing to me.  I love that he lives by the five second rule because 'it's good to eat a little dirt now and then.'  I adore that he still thinks farts are funny; I know I certainly do.  I laugh every time he tells me to 'be careful' right after he says good night, even though it doesn't make much sense that I'd need to be careful in my dreams.  I think the fact that he smiles all the time creates such a consistent reassurance of happiness in me.  And I know that if I lost everything I have, all he would have to do is hug me and tell me 'it will all be ok' and it would. 

If the greatest thing I ever achieve in my life is being just like my dad, then I will have succeeded in many different forms of measurement.  So much of the good in me is there because of him.  And as cheesy as this has been I mean every word of it. 

My Daddy is the greatest I could have ever asked for.  And I thank whatever force is out there for putting him in my life.