Shit My Dad Says Book

Photographs from Sh*t My Dad Says
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I have no idea why I'm sopping wet in this photo, but I'm going to guess it's because I rolled in something filthy or spilled something on myself. Hosing me down was my dad’s favorite method for cleaning me off.	Here I am with my dad in his garden, which he adores and whose upkeep he takes very seriously. "It's my first love, besides your mother and horse racing. And you and your brothers, too, I suppose," he’s said.	My dad used to carry me on his shoulders quite a bit when I was a child--until the time I accidentally urinated on him while I was up there. We were at a neighbor’s house and he quickly ran outside, threw me off, ripped off his shirt, then hosed me down like he was from the CDC and I'd come in contact with the Ebola Virus.

My dad is an avid reader, and all throughout my childhood he’d come home after working for 12 hours and we’d sit on the couch and read together.	My family’s trip to the Grand Canyon in 1983 was one of only two family vacations we took. It coincided with the time when my dad started to lose his hair, and decided he'd wear hats to mask his increasing baldness. It wasn’t long before he changed his tune, tossed the caps, and decided he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

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--This text refers to the Hardcover edition.