Happy Birthday Pops

I'm not sure when it started, but a few years ago I started calling my mom and dad, "momma" and "pops." I sort of say it with what little Southern accent I actually have. Well...today is my pops birthday. He's kind of a weird guy. I think I look a lot like my mom and act a lot like my dad. Thus meaning I too am weird. Yet, I'm pretty sure my dad is weirder.

Examples:
My dad's career involves working with, and testing, dirt. Weird.
My dad gets up before the sun rises, takes hours to eat breakfast and read the newspaper, and he often goes to the YMCA to exercise in his morning routine as well. Weird.
My dad randomly bursts into song. Weird.
My dad makes terrible jokes, usually puns. Weird.
My dad attempts to pound it and make Your Mom jokes, but fails 95% of the time. Weird.
My dad tucks his pants into his socks when he's in the woods. Weird.
My dad built a machine called an amoozemeter. Weird.
My dad's favorite food is pasties....and they are disgusting. Weird.

As a matter of fact, we only eat pasties on his birthday because one time, when I was 11 or 12, we had them and I realized how much I hated them. They're like chicken pot pies but replace all the good stuff with crap, beef, and possibly little bits of Count Chocula. I can't be sure about the Count. Just a theory. Anyways...I hated it so much I cried and pretty much couldn't eat it. It took me over an hour to finish it. Every bite was torture. I gagged dozens of times too. Well...my dad may be a little weird sometimes, but then again I do some of those weird things he does too. And I love my dad and I will do my best to attempt to eat some pasties tonight. Yum.

Happy Birthday Dad!

If you wish to find a recipe for a pasty...please...don't look it up. And if you wish to leave comments or check out older posts: www.tylerconta.blogspot.com

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