Growing up I had some pretty nasty men in my life. By the time I was nine years old I had already lost all faith in men. I had watched them hurt me and my mother enough times to know that I didn’t really want anything to do with them. When I was about ready to start sixth grade my mother was getting a little concerned with my fear of men, so she requested that I have the one male teacher in the sixth grade. Given the circumstances, I wasn’t very happy about it. I had no desire to ever be around another man again, but I went anyway. My mom was teaching first grade at the same school that year. She decided it would be fun to have the sixth graders come down and read to her class every Friday morning. Naturally my class was chosen. At first I thought it was a great idea; then she married her reading buddy. That’s right, she married my sixth grade teacher, while I was in his class. I was utterly horrified! I hated men and now there was one coming home with me from school every day. I did everything I could to break them up that first year. I even plotted to destroy their wedding, unfortunately they found out about my little plan and I was grounded instead.
He could have resented me for trying to break them up, but instead he chose to love me anyway. He could have let me fail math, but instead he stayed up for countless hours trying to make sure I made it through. Now as a single parent I rely on him even more. When I was stuck in the middle of the highway with a car that wouldn’t start, he was the one that came to my rescue. When Logan broke our DVD player and I couldn’t figure out how to hook up the new one, my dad saved the day again. All these things that typically would have been done by my ex husband, my father now willingly steps in to do. He didn’t have to be a father to me, but he was, and for that I am eternally grateful.