Blame it On My Dad


I had things other girls wish they had.

Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my fault.

I blame my dad.

It all started in 1973.

My pops was the greatest because he delivered me.

My mom and he were married.

We lived in Germany.

And I couldn’t wait to get here, not even for a hospital.

Dad shoved us into his vw bug and we were in route.

Popping and rolling down the autobahn we went.

On two wheels we pulled on to the infirmary.

The vw bug was rocking that night.

The doctors from the hospital were nowhere in sight.

I popped out into my daddy’s arms.

His love he gave me from then on.

How do you give love to a daughter?

Shower her with time.

Bathe it in quality.

My dad taught me how to ride a bike.

He was there to kiss me goodnight.

I now…

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