For better or worse, my brain is wired like my father’s. Jerry Braun’s brain is a deficit when I’m expected to keep inappropriate thoughts to myself, refrain from laughing at funerals, politely listen to someone drone on about something I’m not interested in or suppress my urge to eat junk food. Other times—and not just the annual Easter egg hut—having a Jerry Braun brain is an asset.

More than 20 years ago, my dad decided to build a big cow. When I say big cow, I mean a BIG cow. It’s a 12’ tall, 15’ long holstein positioned in view from the road, but far enough away it’s hard to tell its fake.

Prior to construction, he calculated the dimensions to scale and prepared a materials list that amounted to several hundred dollars (my mother must have a secret bank account to fund his misadventures). Once he collected the materials, he built his masterpiece over an extended weekend, working from dusk til dawn to complete it as quickly as possible. Sculpting her head, flexed his artistic muscle and gave the big cow a personality all her own—serious with a deadpan sense of humor.

If you ask my dad why he built the cow, he’ll quote the voice Kevin Costner hears in Field of Dreams, “If you build it, they will come.” Looking back, and realizing I’m around the age he was when he built the BIG cow, I’m thinking it was his Midlife Pickle.

When I was very young, my dad worked nights, and days actually. This meant he’d get home from one of his day jobs (operating heavy equipment, welding, construction) and he’d take a nap for a few hours before heading off to his full-time job at the Wiedeman’s brewery. He must have been exhausted, but my brother, Jeremy, and I would sit on the foot of the bed and he would tell us stories about Big, a woman who was oversized, much like Clifford the Big Red Dog. Big would get into crazy situations—falling through the floor of Kmart is one that springs to memory—but somehow she’d manage to take care of her family and have fun along the way.

I think the reason my brain works like my dad’s is because most evenings as we sat down to dinner, my dad would throw out a brain teaser. I’d spend the bulk of my meal trying to solve the riddle. One that took up at least three evenings in 1985—If a plane crashed on the US-Canada border, where would they bury the survivors? I’m sure that seems obvious, but it took 9-year-old Mollie several days and several hints from my mom to figure it out. At the time I just wanted the answer—I would have loved Google—but I’m thankful my dad didn’t give in because it taught me to persevere and keep tackling a problem from every angle until I finally broke the code.

My dad taught me a lot—how to change my oil, drive a tractor and work harder than I think I can—but the thing I most appreciate is his unapologetic way of viewing the world through this own lens. I’m certain the bulk of my sense of humor comes from his off the wall jokes, politically incorrect stories and ability to run with an idea, even if it means spending time, energy and money on something that most people will consider crazy. I often find myself in similar situations, with BrandFlick Chronicles being my current Jerry Brain brain inspired project.

So even though there have been times thinking like my father has gotten me into trouble, I’ll happily take the chastising for laughing in a meeting or being too loud at a restaurant in exchange for the ability to have original thoughts and the courage to express them.

So here’s to Jerry Braun’s brain. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!