Daddy's Girl

There is no denying that I am my Dad's daughter. I get so many characteristics from him. I am without a doubt his child. We enjoy the same television shows (Golf not included) and laugh at the kind of bodily function cards.

From 7th to 12th grade, I figured out that I spent a lot of hours in the car with my Dad going to and from school. Still to this day some of those things are, "What happened in the car stays in the car" kinds of conversations. Wouldn't Mom flip out if she knew that every afternoon we stopped by *** *** ******* **** ****** **** ***** ? Oh wait I can't share that. Wouldn't Mom flip out if she knew that almost every afternoon I ***** * *******? oh wait I can't share that. ;) Then there's the time that we ... oh wait I can't share that either.

Every day I spent at least 40 minutes in the car with my Dad. That's 200 minutes per week. Of course, you have to discount the time not spent in school. So just for simplicity sakes, I'll take away 8 weeks each year leaving only 44 weeks instead of 52 weeks. So calculating 200 minutes for 44 weeks, that leaves a total of 8800 minutes I spent with my Dad in the car for one year of school. Times that number by 6 for 6 years of education and you get a whopping 52,800 minutes for 6 years. That's give or take since I didn't include days where we spent 80 minutes in the car instead of 40 or the days we drove to Durham NC for music supplies or the days off for spring break. I spent 880 hours with my Dad in the car just the two of us. That's a lot of time for listening to oldies 100.7, listening to music arranged by Hal Leonard, listening to me practicing the flute and rolling down the windows for *ahem* flatulence passing.

Speaking of flatulence, this made me chuckle.



A fart chart indeed.

Happy Farter's Father's Day!