I grew up in a world of hunting and ATVs. I grew up in a world of digging for fishing worms. I grew up in a world of shooting BB guns in the backyard in bare feet. I grew up a daddy’s girl and I wouldn’t have hand-picked any other way for myself.
All of my family tells me that the minute I was born, I had my dad wrapped around my finger. Him and I have been best friends since day one. He had me dressed in camo onesies and would always put his trucker caps on my bald round head. (There is plenty of picture proof.) He and I spent as much time as we could together. If he wasn’t at work, I was laying on his round belly as he lounged on the couch. Sometimes, I would even go to work with him. He was a truck driver which made it easy for me to go to work whenever he had short trips. I would dress in my denim overalls and tiny Tim work boots. I would pack my Blues Clues lunchbox and wear my camo baseball hat backwards and head off to work with Dad. He had a baby picture of me in his truck and I always took great pride when I saw it.
As I got older, my dad and I’s relationship only got stronger. On my 10th birthday, my dad got me a BB gun. The minute I tore off the wrapping paper, my dad had the box torn open and was giving me the test to find out if I was a right handed or left handed shot. Much to his surprise, I was a left handed shot. Once we figured out which shoulder I needed to hold the gun too, I was out on the yard, shooting at pop cans. From then on, I was hooked.
Once I was old enough to hunt, I was out in the woods with dad. He and I spend the late fall and early winter months in the tree stand. During my first year I had killed my first buck, and I gained the privilege of being my dad’s wallpaper on his phone. Ten years later, that same picture hasn’t changed, even after his phone did.
A few years went passed and Dad and I remained successful hunting partners. He and I had a streak. We went undefeatable and we felt on top of the world. With all of the time dad and I spent in the woods, our bond only grew stronger and stronger.
When I was ten, Dad threw me on his ATV that he had when he was a kid. It was a two stroke racing quad which meant it had a clutch and needed to be shifted, just as a standard car. Dad gave me a trial and error run first, and let me figure out for myself that I couldn’t just hit the gas and take off. Dad was the reason I learned how to drive the quad. For my fifteenth birthday, Dad decided I needed a dirt bike, and a dirt bike is exactly what I got.
From the day I was born, my dad made sure that I was raised as a tomboy, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be raised any other way. My dad is my best friend, and I will never be able to thank him enough for everything he has done for me.