My Father, the Hero

Does anyone remember this movie? This was one of my absolute favorites growing up. After all, Katherine Heigl seemed so mature (14 is OLD when you are 10) and her clothes were to die (exhibit a: this floral babydoll number in the picture above - so glad my fashion sense has matured as I have). And who doesn't love Gerard Depardieu's accent? And the fairy-tale-ending-girl-gets-boy-first-kiss-on-the-beach? (Give Katherine another goddess point from my 10-year-old self.) I digress.

Here is a story about my own father coming to the rescue and being my real-life Gerard (slightly less French and much less chubby). This morning as I got into my car (coffee, heels, and Louis in hand) I noticed an interesting hoseshoe-like light lit on my dash. Odd, I have never seen this one before. After driving one block, I could tell there was something wrong beyond the sprinkling of snow on the road. Pull over, call Daddy. When he does not pick up his cell, I decide this girl has to take some action and get out of the car... sure enough, the front right tire is flat. Sigh. Get back into car, call Daddy again - voicemail AGAIN. You see, while the normal American citizen would call AAA in such a time of need, I call my father. He is my Mr. Fix-It, mechanic, shoe cobbler, home repair man, tennis partner, and personal comedian. Whatever the problem may be, my dad is the man for the job (except when he doesn't answer can't hear his cell phone). This time, Mom comes to the rescue as she works a couple of blocks away from my apartment. Go Team Mom and Dad! I take her car to work, leaving my disabled vehicle for my father to attend to once he gets home after his meetings (I FINALLY got through on my fifth frantic attempt at calling him - I curse aging and hearing loss). By the time I get home from work, I will have a car with four brand new tires waiting for me. Ah, my hero!

mJa