I am particularly annoyed by certain bad drivers. Not to make snap-judgments, but if you cut me off AND happen to have an annoying “Daddy’s Girl” bumper sticker on your Jetta, I particularly dislike you and eliminate any possibility of us being friends. Not only are you unable to drive, you are a baby.

It was this natural readiness to define her character by her car’s adornment that caused me to stop and think that I too may be a textbook “Daddy’s Girl.”

Though I may not boldly confess this fact to the world in the form of a sticker on my car, I think it’s safe to say I have a particularly close relationship with my father.

As I leafed through the latest issue of Maxim the other day, I came across an article titled “100 Things You Need to Know About Women.” Fascinated at the prospect of learning how my target demographic is presumed to think, I perused the article, vocally reacting to the claims I felt were both true and false.

It was my boyfriend (sorry, Dad, I was gonna tell you) that was first to point out the validity of a certain assertion. “No. 43: About 40 percent of women still call their father ‘Daddy.’” As I was quick in my attempts to dispel this seeming myth, he kindly reminded me of the oh-so-frequent phone calls he overhears that end with the familiar salutation, “Love you Daddy, byeee!” in a pitch not to be replicated for any other phone correspondent, that may only be adequately expressed on paper by using a surplus of “e” vowels.

In my attempts to Google “Daddy’s Girl” and leave readers with a bibliography of sources cited in this opinion article, I found myself inundated with porn and unlucky in finding any feasible authorities on the subject. Thus, I was left with a (quasi)-credible blogger on urbandictionary.com, who offered this (debatably)-accurate definition: “Any female (teen or grown-up woman) who’s unusually close to her father. She’s typically spoiled and bratty. Usually marries a push-over kinda guy that will treat her like her dad does -“

Ouch.

To address portions of this entry sequentially: Unusually close? Define unusually. For every girl’s sake I hope she shares a similar relationship with her father as I do mine. To say that I am “spoiled and bratty” is hopefully somewhat of an overstatement, but fair enough. And as far as the marriage thing goes, someone who puts me on the same pedestal as my dad is practically a prerequisite.

He’s the guy who drove me to school every morning of my youth, and replaced my hidden vodka with vinegar in hopes of teaching me a lesson as I near legal drinking age. He warmed my chocolate milk in Sippy cups, and has never failed to support my constantly evolving aspirations. Behind his hardcore, Marine Corps-tattooed faAade I have seen him cry, and he is the first man I’ll always turn to when I tear up.

Though the day may never come that I deem a flashy epoxy resin ornament the appropriate venue for expressing my feelings, I gotta say: I love you, Daddy! Consider me a lifetime (and proud!) member of Maxim’s 40 percent.

Jennifer Boudevin is a journalism senior and a Mustang Daily staff writer.

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