I am Grateful for my Dad

Some of my earliest memories are of being rocked to sleep every night to the sound of my dad singing primary songs. He would count my piggies and sing until I fell asleep.

I remember when I was ten and I fell off the monkey bars at school and broke my collar bone. My dad came to take me to the doctor. He still tells people that I was too tough to cry.

I love that my dad can’t wait to give presents. I love that my dad can be counted on to pull my toes or count my ribs at least once every time I’m home. I love that my dad tells the wide-mouth frog joke in Spanish. And I love that I’ve never had to wonder if my dad felt that his family was important.

So, to the dad who taught me how to throw a ball harder than the boys, change the oil, wire an outlet, rotate the tires, and run the air compressor…

To the dad who tells me I’m beautiful, who understands the importance of pretty dresses, and who sings to me even now that I’m grown up…

To the dad that is both my biggest hero and my biggest fan…

Thank you for always taking such good care of me. 
 I love you.