I was scrolling through my timeline today, when I saw the following tweet from Letters of Note:
Letters of Notes is one of my favorite blogs to read — one for the snail mail, since ya’ll know how much I love my #lettersfromLA, and two for it’s content, which is always fun to read.
I knew Lincoln’s birthday was somewhere in February, but not exactly when. As you may or may not know, my father bears a resemblance to Abe Lincoln, which is generally what I use to describe him when I tell people about him.
“Yeah, that’s my Dad, the tall guy that looks like Abe Lincoln with a moustache.”
Therefore, in honor of [the day after] Honest Abe’s birthday, I bring you the following story:
When my sister and I were in grade school, my mother didn’t drive, so it fell upon my father to pick us from school and activities and the like. However, my father has an issue with time, and being on it, probably because all the thousands of clocks in my house are set five to ten minutes apart. No one ever knows the real time.
This ended a lot of times with being the last kids picked up, or going over to friends’ houses until Dad came to get us. This also involved me being exposed to hockey, but that’s another story for another time.
So, one day, VS and I are waiting with all the kids to get picked up and the principal yells out to us, “Hoyer girls! Your dad is here!”
And so I looked at the car. And I looked at VS. And VS looked at the car. And VS looked at me.
But neither of us went to the car. Because there was a strange man sitting in the car that was absolutely not our father.
The parking lot emptied, and VS and I remained. Obviously, Dad was just late. The principal took us back towards the school with him to call our dad and find a way home, when we saw the strange man walking towards us. He was tall and skinny like dad. He had the same old blue coat like dad. He had the same old, ugly boots as dad.
“Isn’t that your dad?” asked the principal.
“Where,” VS asked, scandalized. “Is his beard?!”
Apparently, my dad had had the day off. And with that day off, had decided to shave off his beard, rendering him basically unrecognizable at first glance to his daughters.
If you read the letter I mentioned over on Letters of Note, you’ll find out how Lincoln grew his beard, and maybe gained a few extra votes in becoming president. Seriously. Go read it. Maybe get caught up in reading a few more letters.
Moral of the story: grow a beard, and fabulous things like becoming the president could happen to you. And maybe your kids will know who you are, and let you take them home.