Steal My Sunshine

Happy Father’s Day to all the proud papas of the world!

When I think of my mother, I think of movies we watch together. Probably because my mother is one of those people that frequently talks during movies (“what’s happening? Why did they just go in the creepy building!? What do I know that actor from?”). If she wasn’t so adorable I’d be afraid to take her out to see movies in public. But when I think of my dad, I always think of music.

I’m a little weird on music. I grew up listening to my dad’s music, so I was probably the only 6 year old running around singing Pink Floyd and George Michael. Mixed in with that was some Paula Abdul, which I particularly loved. I have no idea why my father had this CD, but I’d make him play Forever Your Girl over and over again, belting out each song. I liked it much better than some of his other music, like The Alan Parsons Project.

My dad seems to have my same strange trend in music choices. Not that we always like the same things, but just that we have very eclectic tastes. I already mentioned that he liked Paula Abdul. Well when I was 11 he got the Shania Twain CD. We listened to that CD so many times as he drove me to school…. And just to make sure you get the full mental picture, we’d go in his miata convertible, top down, my hair blowing in the breeze, me singing my little heart out as usual… yeah, I’m sure it was a bit of a strange sight. In fact Shania Twain songs remind me so much of my father, that for a while I had That Don’t Impress Me Much as his ringtone. Initially I had it set to Man! I Feel Like a Woman, but my mother protested.

After that I started to find music of my own, but my daddy was more than willing to add it to our car tunes during road trips. Which is how we ended up listening to Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls countless times. It takes a special kind of man to listen straight through 2 Spice Girls CDs without going insane on the preteen girl next to him, hogging the front seat of the car as usual.

But the song that absolutely stands out in my mind when I think of my father, is Steal My Sunshine.

SEE!

Generally I think my dad’s genes made my mom’s genes their bitch, as I am remarkably like my dad in looks, skills, temperament… you name it. In fact when I dress up as a guy (for themed parties or events!) I could be his younger doppelgänger if my head was just slightly more round. My brother is the opposite. He takes way more after my mother, although his personality is the exact same as my dad’s.

This drove me insane when I was a teenager, for various reasons. One being that I absolutely hated having brown hair & eyes. And I don’t even have exciting shades of brown for either one. No, I’m like absolutely middle-of-the-road-completely-average boring. This gave me a lot of self-esteem issues.

The other problem was that where I had been a happy child, I was an ANGRY teenager. Yeah, yeah, I know everyone has teenage angst, but it was waaaaaaaay exaggerated for me because my parents moved us around the same time. I was angry. I was bitter. I was withdrawn. I was an evil devilspawn that any second might go off and make you fear for your life.

My poor mother actually bore the brunt of my evilness, but I think my father, sharing my temperament, understood it better.

So when I became angry and withdrawn, my father revealed that he had gone through the same thing, and believe it or not it would get better. Of course I didn’t believe him, so he would use any occasion to give me helpful little tips to get me through it.

The one that really sunk in was when I was watching the Steal My Sunshine video on MTV. Ya know, back when they actually played music videos the majority of the time. I was sitting there watching it, probably pouting as usual, (as I’ve said, it’s like my default response to life), and Dad came up behind me.

“Look at that girl, and how she smiles all the time. Do you see how much prettier she is when she smiles? Why don’t you try that?”

Simple words, but it was a lightening strike. I won’t say overnight I stopped being completely horrible to my poor parents, but those words sunk in.

Every parent contributes in some way to their child, whether genetics, learned traits, or morals. When we become adults, we have more opportunity to choose our own paths that take us away from what we learned. But I have based my life off those words.

Because it wasn’t really about being “prettier.” My dad’s a smart man. He said what would grab my attention. It’s about being happy. It’s about your outlook on life. I was choosing to mope, to be miserable. I could just as easily choose to be happy. I could make the best of a bad situation. And that’s what I’ve decided to do.

So now, I am actually known for my smile. I am known for being happy, perky, adorable… you get the picture. And honestly it’s not that I’m happy all the time. It’s because when I get stressed, after a little internal freak out, I breathe and remember those words. And then I smile, because I choose to do so.

My daddy is amazing, and I love him. But when I think of him what comes to my mind first is not all the times of the past when he demonstrated his awesomeness, but the fact I know my future will be a bright one, because he taught me how to make it happen.