Here was a line from one of my recent blog posts:
"No-thanks to my Dad, who never emailed me any feedback!"
After conversing with said Father figure, it was brought to my attention that I failed to attach said sermon in said email. Thus, no attachment, no sermon, no feedback.
I would like to take this opportunity to offer the most sincere apologies to J. Brent Mustoe. It just goes to show that no matter how old I get, he will always be right. Lets recap some of the more famous "Dad was right" moments over the years shall we?
-In 8th grade, it's moving day from St. Charles to Cape Girardeau. I forgot to pack my bb gun (ironically, Dad's old copper Daisy, it was sweet). As I'm loading it into the trunk he says "Now Adam be careful with that it might still be...." and is interrupted by the sound of me accidentally shooting him.
-Sometime in Middle School Kelly, Dad, and I are at the Mid Rivers Mall food court. I of course go with Taco Bell and am applying hot sauce to my tacos. I tear the corner of one, but not deep enough; pressure starts to build as I try to persevere with my insufficient tear. Dad warns me to rip another corner because it'll all squirt out, and then as he finishes that sentance I accidentally squirt hot sauce all over his shirt from across the table.
-My parents explicitly banned me from riding my bike on Mid Rivers Mall drive. Boy were they right, and it was wasn't fun to explain to them how I had got hit by a car while on my bike.
-Dad warned me about credit cards. Nuff said.
-and probably his all time favorite: After repeated warnings but a very "I'll let you make the choice" policy on prom party, I went. Everyone ended up getting hammered (just like he said) and my prom date hooked up with a Southeast Missouri State cheerleader named Hoss. I had a terrible time just like he said I would, but he let me have the freedom to find out just how right he was.
So, Pops, Sorry, and you were right, just like always.