My Dad is Awesome.

So, my dad and I have our moments. Moments that truly make me question the validity of my lineage and my capacity for love. But, today my father is my hero.

I was just driving home from the car place with my dad in tow after getting a new...umm...cable...wire...electricity thingy when I saw them.

Two of the most sad, scared, pathetic black orbs I've ever seen.  Cowering against a palm tree in the median of one of Ormond's main drags- Nova Road- was a newborn baby raccoon. It was a busy street tonight, with many people whizzing by on their way home, on their phones, tunnel vision--not paying attention.

But not me.

This tiny fur baby whimpered at me through my 45 MPH window and in that split second of eye-to-eye connection, my heart sank.

Oh, hell.

I swerved my car around a No U-Turn and circled back around like the crazy animal lady that I am. Putting my car in park next to the median, I flicked on my emergency lights and rolled down my window. The little raccoon reached out its freakily human-like hand as if it were a tiny passenger on a sinking ship. Someone blared their horn as they raced by and the fuzzy coon startled and clutched onto the palm tree.

Alone. Terrified.

So freaking furry I can barely stand it.

Like this but about half its size and 3x's fluffier

My heart absolutely broke. But what to do?

And then--my knight in shining Acura pulled up behind me, forcing many Ormondites to slam on their brakes and swerve around him.

My dad.

Thinking my car had broken down, he gets out and strides up to my car. People are really honking now due to the fact that my dad has not yet figured out how to turn on his emergency lights and is just parked in the middle of a major roadway.

I point out the ball of fur with scared, sad orbs and instead of my dad telling me that I'm being ridiculous, he devises a rescue plan.

(Cars still swerving. Cars jamming behind us. A honk now and then.)

During the planning phase, a small shady motel across the street has patrons out front playing a rousing game of shuffleboard.

Soon, a small crowd of white hairs are standing around the palm and baby raccoon in the middle of the road. A husky masculine woman warns us of the possibility of rabies. Her small, cloudy-eyed friend comes up really close to my car and conspiratorially says, "Ya know young lady, it could have rabies. And then you may get rabies. And then your kids will get rabies."

Uh huh. I think you may be talking about HIV...I slowly roll my window back up.

The white hairs return to their shuffleboard across the street, while watching us through cautious, sideways eyes.

My dad and I decide to move our cars to Buttleman's parking lot right off the street.

Safety, peace and serenity is restored to the small suburbanite Ormond Beach area.

The one thing about my dad that used to embarrass the heck out of me as a kid (and sometimes still does) is that he has no shame. The normal part of people's brains that say, "Dear God, that was really embarrassing/awkward" does not exist with my dad.

Which is why you could find him at 6:30 this evening standing on a median in the middle of a busy road trying to coax a baby raccoon into a cardboard box borrowed from a guy that works at Buttleman's.

I admit it, I was hiding from embarrassment in my car.

Kind of like I did my entire childhood...

Miraculously, my dad effortlessly lured the baby coon into the box and closed the lid. During all of this, another crazy animal lady in a Prius had been waiting with open arms to take the animal to safety.

Bye bye! Please stay far away from our trash cans!

So, it was an excellent day and I'm so thankful to have my amazing, raccoon-rescuing father.

There is truly no one else like you...

 And please, note the shuffleboard game in the background...it's never a dull day in beautiful Ormond Beach!