One of my favorite memories of me and my dad is the first and last time my dad spanked me. I know that sounds weird but let me explain.  I was, am and always will be daddy’s little girl, or baby girl as he use to call me. For example my garndmother often tells me this story:

One daymy father dropped me of at my grandmother’s.Very happy to see grandma I gave her a big hug and kiss to greet her. Everything was great until she tried to explain to me what time her son  would pick me up. Confused I told her that I had to wait for my dad, I did nt want to go anywhere with her son.  My grandmother laugh as she realized that I’d never understood how we were related.  She thought it was so cute that she started teasing me.  “The man that you live with is my son.  You can call him daddy but he will always be my baby.”  I was so mad,  and repliied“No! He’s not your baby! That’s my daddy; that’s my heart!”

I loved spending time with my dad, watching TV with my dad, wrestling with my dad, working on cars with my dad, pretty much anything that involved my dad I loved to do, even if …

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