Is it moun'in or moutain? Meer or mirror?
This post will be pretty short. I'm not much of a blogger these days and my daily stories aren't nearly as exciting as they used to be.
Today at work, my boss told us not to be "robuts" when we talk to patients. It was not on purpose, she was trying to sail through a lot of stuff for the team in a very short time frame. She probably just got excited or something.
Either way, I felt the rush. The same rush I experience every time I catch an oldie playing in an elevator or at the mall. The rush of remembering.
My dad. 
Bah, I'm sorry Blogger-verse. I don't know if I can ever stop posting about him. He was too great of a man and I worry so much about forgetting stuff. So when this rush comes, I want to blog about it. Share with the world or my kid(s) when they get older, so they will know him too.
My dad was an army brat of sorts and his parents divorced when my dad was 12. As a result of these two huge factors, he grew up bouncing from school to school. I think he said he had been to like 8 elementary schools or something. (It's quite possible that he said something else but I remember I was in elementary school at the time and I was all ooohhhing and awwwinngg at the thought of going to more than one school).
He talked about how hard it was for him to make friends sometimes and he developed a lot of interpersonal hobbies; like origami and picking locks.
Another result of his forced lifestyle was the way he pronounced his words. Oh, how my siblings and I used to tease him about the way he said certain words. The two big ones were the way he pronounced sorcerer (saucerer or saucer) and robot (robut).  My older brother, Derrick, used to joke with my dad, "Is there a flying saucer that casts magic in that story?" and my dad would laugh and explain it away everytime.
We laughed, but those are the weird things you remember when you get older. My dad's legacy isn't so much in the physical things he left behind but in the character he was.  The way he ate pancakes 90% of the time with peanut butter covering  all but the edges of the pancake, so you could see it begin to melt down to the plate or the way he pronounced his words.  He didn't change it because we teased him. He kept it, because that history is part of him. 
I hope Cami remembers the way I say mitten with two t's or mounTain. I'll remember the way she sings songs with me, dropping syllables all over with a bright smile across her face.  
I didn't mean to get all sentimental. I imagined this blog post would be very funny--the way us, Utahn's talk and such.  I can't help it sometimes. The rush of it all.