Adoring Dad

The Tomatoes Always Tasted So Sweet.

My dad is the only one I can remember who frequented the cafeteria of J.J. Finley, my elementary school in Gainesville, Florida. Every week he came to eat lunch with me, and every week he left with tomatoes all over his crisp white shirt, tie, and suit.

Even when my dad wasn’t at school eating lunch with me, we communicated. He packed my lunch each morning, and along with his staple goodies—a hunk of cheddar cheese, cherry tomatoes, sandwiches on wheat bread—he always wrote a note and stuck it in my brown bag. On the front of the piece of paper, my dad unfailingly wrote “Kate” encircled by a red heart. The text of the note went something like, “I hope you have a wonderful day! Love, Dad.”

I was too young to be embarrassed by such parental affection. It might have been different in middle school, but in elementary school, I was the Queen Bee with the Adoring Dad.

When he came to visit me in the cafeteria, he had steadfast confidence that I would learn to eat my cherry tomatoes without biting into them and squirting the juice all over his clothes. He was (and still is) a law professor and dean, and while his attire has always been formal, his position in academia was such that a little red stain once a week just wasn’t a big deal. At least that’s what he told me.

Dogfriend.

When I was a little older, my family moved to a lake house just outside of Gainesville. We skied year-round, after school and on weekends. I, the youngest of three, would wait with baited breath for my dad and older siblings to clamber into our old blue motorboat (it had just enough umph to get us up on slaloms).

Often we motored into the middle of the lake without our Golden Retriever, Kipper. Sometimes he simply wasn’t around when we left, but sometimes we just thought we could have a dog-free trip.

Once we were in the middle of the lake, my dad would inevitably spot Kipper swimming frantically toward us, doing the doggie paddle like he was in the Doggie Olympics. Dad would get a resigned look on his face. He knew it was going to be unpleasant, but he knew what he must do to keep his kids and his dog happy.

Kipper would swim right up to the edge of the boat, and dad would idle the motor.