This coming March, I will be turning the oh so classy 27. The casual odd number. Not enough to be important but old enough to not be "young twenty-ish" anymore. Yeah...blah I know. I realize it's what, 5 months away, but just work with me here. With age comes great insight on life...that's what everyone is told. The "Wise Ole' Owl" eh?
Anyhoo...I remember when I was little always asking my Moma and Daddy...
"How do you know_____?" This question could have pertained to anything and everything. From washing dishes to grilling steaks. I wanted to know how in the world they knew what they were doing. Their answer was always either, "I just do," or "I learned from so and so."
And there I stood in awe and full of amazement that my Moma and Daddy could twirl a stick or cook a pop-egg (that's a fried egg with the yolk just a bit runny in case you were curious...my name of course).
What has brought me to share all of this thought process with you today?
Well...sitting on the couch today, I watched my little Savannah slowly learn how to work a particular part of a toy that she has. She's been playing with the toy for weeks now and has yet to quite figure it out. I've sat and watched her become frustrated and mad and then quickly move on. I've sat on the floor and showed her how it works only for her to become very bored and yet again, move on. But today...she finally got it. All by herself. I was there the entire time, watching. I wanted oh so badly to attempt to show her again, but I stopped myself. I am happy I did too. Because when she figured it out, she looked up at me and smiled her big, adorable, beautiful, Savannah grin. My heart just melted. She got it...all by herself. *tear*
I got to thinking about my girls and what I want them take from me. What I want them to learn and absorb from just being around me. Kind of like I did with my parents. A lot of the things I do today are all because I simply watched them. So, I've decided to share with you what makes me me and how I turned out the way I did.
This is my Daddy.
His name is Emory Earl, but everyone has called him Sonny since he was younger. Nickname sort of.
He is a GREAT man! I'm sure if you ask almost every daughter, she'll say that about her Daddy' using the term "Daddy" of course. And that's what he's always been. I was never one to call him "Dad." Not saying that it's a bad thing, just that growing up, it felt a bit disrespectful and taught.
So Daddy it was and Daddy it is.
|Holding baby Colton; my Bub's youngest.|
|Reece and Daddy|
|Daddy and Savannah|
|Four generations of Hinsons|
|Daddy and Hope|