Time Travel Tuesday ~ Memories with Dad Edition

Today for Time Travel Tuesday, in honor of Father's Day on the horizon, Annie has asked us to share memories about our dad. I am happy to participate, and hesitate for only one reason. I'm sure some of you out there have grown up thinking you had the best dad in the world, and I'm afraid you'll be greatly disappointed when you discover the world's best dad was actually mine!
When you've wiped away your tears, you're welcome to continue reading and discover why my dad is so great.

First, my dad loves me. I never had an opportunity to doubt his love, because he told me about it all the time. We had a little game wherein he would say, "Know what, Karen?" I'd say, "What?" Dad would say, "I love you," and I'd say, "I love you, too." We still play it sometimes. And guess what my favorite game is to play with my kids?
I knew my dad loved me, but I also knew he meant business when it came to obedience. I'm telling you, there was nothing quite like his silhouette in my doorway to make me wish I'd been behaving better. My sister and I shared a room and had a trundle bed, you know, the kind where one bed hides underneath the other. Well, on occasion (very, very, very rarely, I might add!) when we were supposed to be in bed and quiet we might have, accidentally, been jumping on the bed. Our laughter and good time totally overshadowed any thoughts we may have had about going to bed as we were supposed to, until the inevitable happened. The wooden slats holding up the mattress, which were being moved about because of our jumping, would eventually fall out and the matress stood on its end. It made quite a noise and stood very tall. But that was nothing compared to the figure which almost as quickly filled our doorway.
My backside always regretted the fun my feet had jumping on the bed! Yes, my dad had strong arms. And his strong arms play a central role in my best memory of him.
I'm not sure how old I was when this incident happened. I only know I couldn't have been older than seven because I had my own room, so my little brother hadn't been born yet, and I was seven and a half (very important to include the 'half' back then, remember?) when David was born.
So anyway, I was seven or younger. In the middle of the night I heard a very loud crashing sound coming from downstairs. I didn't know if it was aliens breaking in to take me away, a robber coming in to steal my toys, or a monster on his way to eat me, but I was scared! I jumped out of bed and raced down the hallway to my mom and dad's room. My heart was pounding with fear but I knew if I could somehow make it to their room, I would be safe. So I ran. It couldn't have been more than twelve feet from my doorway to theirs, but somehow it felt like I was running forever.
When I got to their room I threw the door open, ready to run and jump onto their bed and cling to safety. But I didn't have to go that far. When I threw the door open I found my dad squatting on the floor with his arms outstretched toward me, waiting for me to jump into them, where I clung to safety. He had heard me coming and was waiting for me. (Kind of reminds me of another Father I have!)
When I was calm enough, my dad went downstairs to investigate. I was confident he could take down any aliens, robbers, or monsters he might encounter. Turns out it was just a metal tray which had been leaning against the wall. It had fallen to the floor and made that terrible noise. So my dad assured me everything was OK and I went back to bed...Safe and sound, knowing my hero was just down the hall.

So there you have it, my favorite memory of the best dad in the world. Stop on over to Annie's place to read accounts about other great dads.