I think most of my friends would describe me as the “mom friend”. For those that don’t know, Urban Dictionary defines the mom friend as “That one friend in your squad that’s super responsible and almost over-protective of them” and “That one friend that’s pretty much just a small version of a mom, you know, like all caring and considerate.”
And all these things are true. I don’t drink alcohol, so I’m always the designated driver and the one to get food for everyone else. True story: on my wedding night, our friends had all been drinking at our house, and they wanted Taco Bell, so I drove out and got it for them. Me, the bride.
I’m also protective and caring. I’ve gone with my friends to help get them out of bad situations, I’ve watched their kids when they were in a bind, and I’ve helped them with homework to the point their own moms thanked me for my influence.
But I’m also the dad friend.
I’m an only child, so I didn’t have a brother for my dad to teach things to. He’s a very handy guy, and when he needed help putting up drywall, building a deck, or tiling a kitchen, he’d show me how to do that so I could help. What this resulted in was me being very independent and knowing a lot more about home-maintenance and taxes than other girls my age.
Another true story: I once went to my best friend’s house, and she told me her kitchen sink was broken. Her then-husband was on a hunting trip, and her landlord (her mom) told her to just wait until he got back to fix it. And I asked her what was broken, and she said the faucet had come completely off and water was spraying up into the light fixture, so she had to shut the water off.
I took the faucet, screwed it back on, made sure it was tight and turned the water back on.
Fixed.
Her mom saw us later that day and asked ‘did Shelby fix your sink?’ because she knows me so well, and I said yes, of course.
My cousin moved into a new house in the past year and asked me to come over to show her how to put together all three bed frames in her house. Her dad and I even had to get out the tools and take the front door off just to get one of the box-springs upstairs because of the weird angle. She asked me how I knew how to do this kind of stuff, and I just said my dad taught me.
And it’s not just girls. One of our guy-friends had told us a story of a toilet in his house that backed up and overflowed and kept running, and how he and his brother were cleaning up for hours because there was so much water. I asked why he didn’t turn the water off from underneath. And he blinked at me.
So I took him to show him where under sinks and toilets there was a shut-off valve, then how to find the whole-house shut off if that kind of thing ever happens again. They don’t teach you any of this stuff in school anymore, and if you don’t have a handy parent, you don’t really get the option to learn it as a kid.
I think what I’m trying to say is thank you to my dad. That thank-you is mostly from me, for everything you’ve done and continue to do as my dad, but that thank-you is also from my friends, for raising a daughter who can fix their sink, fill their coolant, and do their taxes.