My Daddy





My Dad is the best. Really.


 I wish I had some photos to post of us in our younger years, when we were both younger and cuter, (just kidding, Dad!) but I don't know how to scan things. Oh, my life.

When you think about it, there are a lot of lousy dads out there. Right? Like Hitler. I'm sure he was not a good dad, if he even had kids, I don't know. But it's just an example. Don't think too hard. What I'm trying to say is that outta all the bad dads I could of had, I didn't get a bad one. Man... I'm so bad with words.

WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY IS I'm so blessed, cause Merlin Jay Wittmer is my dad, and he is one of the most compassionate, hard-working, and loving guy I know! (Not to mention straight up hilar).


I have so many distinct memories of my Daddy growing up. Picking just one to share is hard...
A couple years ago, like 6 or something,  we had a spare mattress sitting around. Not exactly sure why. I guess we weren't sure what to do with it, so Dad took us over to our friends house and we borrowed their four wheeler for a bit of mattress surfing in their cow pasture! I remember thinking, 'how did he think of this?' and having one of the best days ever. His mind is always going, thinking of the best stuff to do. Plus we spread all the manure around the pasture for our friends. Two birds, one stone. Nuff said.

I remember after a basketball game my junior year, I was so discouraged (It would've been my 12th time fouling out that season, maybe 15th). I told my Dad, 'I hate basketball. I don't even wanna play anymore.' (I didn't mean it). I'm not sure what He said to me that car ride home, but after that I was so encouraged to go out there every practice and game and really play like I meant it. To make the most of the opportunities I have. Dad has always been so great at that kinda thing, always when you least expect it.

***Side Note: When I first started playing basketball in 3rd grade, I was scared of my own shadow and ran around the court with my panties in a wad. Dad made a goal for me that season: "Be aggressive. Try to foul out!" So that I would maybe stay in play while the game was going on. I remember when I finally did foul out, how proud I was to tell him, and how he made me feel like I'd done something big. BUT, by the time I was in 11th grade, fouling out was something I desperately tried NOT to do. That's why I was so discouraged.

Anyways, I love this guy to pieces and wouldn't trade him for the world! Thank you to my heavenly Father for blessing me with such a wonderful God-fearing earthly Father!

Love you Dad!
xoxo, Your favorite.




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