The root of my evil...

It's been determined I'm messy... my life is a mess. (Same thing)

My dad is not messy.

My mom is not messy.

My sisters and brother are not messy.

Who then can I blame?

Myself... probably. (don't make me say it out loud... it hurts)

BUT,

I'm going to blame creative genetics.

I'm going to throw the blame... a little bit... a little teeny bit

to this guy:

My dad.
He looks innocent... don't be deceived.
He's a raging ball of creativity that's rolling downhill and picking up steam.
His brain works a lot like mine in that sense -- It's his fault!

This is the guy who wrote very creative clues for Easter Basket hunts. One year, my brother's trove of candy was found hanging from the airborne end of the grain auger... he didn't take this task lightly.

This is the guy who when I had a visiting friend, required them to tell a good joke before they were allowed to eat dinner with us.

This is the guy who used to tell potential suitors on the phone that they would have to hold because I was "on line four..." or "talking to my boyfriend on his motorcycle"... THE HORROR!!!!!!!

This is the guy who has written four novels. He inspires me. I am so proud of him.
My dad.