but there is no mushy love stuff in this story.
no thankfulness for my dad. nope, i was mad at him.
i mean, i am thankful he is my dad, but maybe...
i wanted to trade him in on this day.
he's a traditional man. he is a man that only thinks one should have the necessities of life. for instance, mom has never had a diamond pre-marriage or marriage, because "you can't take it with you." i think you can. you can be buried in diamonds. you can.
he raised a smart daughter.
he has given her hubcaps (wrapped with ductape and he was not being funny), vacuums (nice ones, no worries) and tires and many many more nice presents along the same lines.
you can imagine her excitement year after year.
it was underwhelming.
being a man of necessity like he is, he feels the same way about make up. he prefers the au-natural look. and thinks that "if god would have wanted your lips pick, he would have made them that way and your eye lids blue, the same..."
needless to say, the teenage years sans make-up were hard. everyone else wore make-up but i was not allowed. ever. occasionally i would sneak, but really had fear of my dad and never did more than once or twice.
finally when i was eighteen, i had had it. i wanted permission for my dad to let me wear make up. it was becoming silly that i was not allowed.
come on, dad.
so after much talk about make-up, he called me downstairs one day to where he was reading.
"jessica"
"yes, sir?"
"can you come down here?"
"coming!"
"i have been thinking about this whole make up thing. i do not want you to wear it. but you can choose to obey or you can choose to rebel. it is your choice. what's it gonna be?"
(without hesitation)
"i am going to choose to rebel."
the next day mom and i went to nashville (which was a HUGE deal for us clarksvillians) and she bought me the biggest ULTIMA II set of make up you have ever seen.
i am telling you. it was awesome.
awesome.
and from there on out, i wore make-up everyday
for the rest of that week.
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