Dad of the Year Goes to...Billy Ball!

I'm am thankful for so many things in my life. I have a lot to be grateful for. As I sit here typing this I am especially grateful for the man I married 22 years ago. He is unselfish, smart, caring, loving, unselfish, helpful, kind, and, did I mention that he's unselfish? Right now, at 8:50 in the PM, he is in the Salt Lake Airport waiting for a 7 AM flight back to Boise. Why is he in the Salt Lake Airport without any personal necessities besides his coat, wallet, phone, and winter gloves you might ask. Well, let me tell you. It's because he's such a great dad.

We haven't seen such yucky weather conditions around here at Thanksgiving in a loooong time. And we definitely haven't had a college student who has to drive home for Thanksgiving in the yucky muck either. Well, when you put nasty Old Man Winter, and mix him with 2 college young ladies driving right in the middle of his masterpiece of a blizzard, you get two nervous parents who don't want their daughter to drive back to college with any flakes falling from the sky.

Here's where Bill gets nominated for father of the year in my eyes: He called me on the phone Friday morning and told me to book a one way flight for him on Sunday evening. He was going to drive those girls back to school himself and fly home Sunday night. The plan fell into place. The car was readied with new windshield wipers, washer fluid, a niiiiice new scraper, a shovel, an emergency kit, and a tank full of gas. All ready for the treacherous trip to Happy Valley. Well, that cranky Old Man Winter took his wrath out on the stretch of I-84 from Tremonton to Burley and the road gods decided to close the road. Add on another hour and a half, mix it with icy conditions, stupid cold weather drivers, an accident, and more snow falling, and you get a dad who misses his flight back to his warm house, the rest of his family, Sunday dinner, a football game playing on the big screen tv, and, best of all, his nice warm bed complete with all of his pillows.

Yep, as I write this, the Father of the Year is trying to make himself cozy on an airport chair with his coat as a pillow, and some yucky fast food for dinner. Hopefully there is a nice Southwest employee who will loan him a travel pillow so he can rest his head until he gets the boarding call tomorrow morning at 7.

Your trophy will be waiting for you when you get home.

Love, your other half who is not nearly as unselfish as you are.