Tis Father’s Day today! Yes, I know this because …
1. Our Firstborn peeled my left eyelid open at 4:17 AM today asking if he could turn on the oven and prep the cinnamon buns for you.
… and …
2. All members of social media are declaring their husbands and fathers “THE BEST” dads in the universe. Spontaneous public poll – out of curiosity, I was wondering if I would get hate mail if I replied to all these adamant statements of #1 dad with “no way, Jo-se. Mine is the best! The best ever! MINEMINEMINE”.
Truly, I would be remiss if I failed to record your perfection of fatherhood on my blog for all the world to read. It would be a travesty if I wasted this day not writing about you.
Right. So, before I record your awesomeness…including your superb laundry skills, let me break this down. I have 11 minutes until the season finale of Game of Thrones and since you decided to hijack the main floor TV for the next 3 weeks screaming at FIFA referees, bringing cursing to a whole new level and banishing me to Man Town (the basement) where our new cable provider does not allow me to pause in real time…I now have 10 minutes and 13 seconds to write, download a picture and edit a brilliant post about…you. TRANSLATION: You will not come between me and the fate of Tyrion Lannister. I believe the
fastest most effective way to do this is to write a letter to our daughter.
My Dear Girl Baby,
Fortunately or unfortunately, depends on your perspective on life, our family as a whole really isn’t much for pretense. We just kind of lay it all out there, for better or worse. (Worse, most recently, when your Oldest Brother informed me that he told his class that your father and I were getting divorced because I yelled at him for nagging me to put away the laundry…from 2 weeks ago…that he washed in fresh linen Gain detergent and crisply folded.)
So I tell you this tale not to send you directly (say it southern with me now: diiii-rectly) into therapy when you hit middle school, but to give you the basis for what has evolved in this house during the last 3.4 years. You see, your Dad was fairly comfortable as The Father of Boys.
Your Dad…the fierce manly Army man he is….almost passed out in the delivery room when we discovered you had girl parts. We opted not to find out if you would be a “he” or a “she”, and Dad was overly confident that you were a “he”. He blames it on the fact that he played an intense old man soccer game late into the night and then my water inconveniently broke at 11:30 PM rendering him sleepless until your 6:23 AM birth. Rather, I think he was truly terrified when he didn’t see the familiar coconuts and palm tree on our new baby. A girl in THIS house was not for the faint of heart.
So, in case you catch a case of teenage amnesia when you are 13, dye your hair purple and steal my car, I need to remind you some things about your Dad. He digs you. He REALLY digs you. You are a funny little creature. (It may help that you inherited his sparkly blue eyes, Who-ville chicklets and “entertaining” personality.)
As I fight the fight every day to put you in “regular” clothes, he dresses you in the
TACKIEST, most beautiful sparkliest princess dresses you love and plays with you and all your dolls and toys in the toy room. Note: while it’s easy to lob baseballs at your brothers and squirt them with the garden hose, spending 45 minutes role playing Cedric and Sofia the First takes time and patience. (On a side note: Apologies to Cinderella Barbie. Not sure how you lost your top and left leg…)
At night when you try to stall and extend bedtime to the wee hours, you beg your Daddy to read just 1 more book…and he does. You “pretty pleeease” ask him to sing 1 more song … and he does. When he is home, you yell from your bed in the morning until he fetches you … and he does. Every single time you screetch “Daddy’s shoulders”, up he puts you … yes he does.
As he tells me so often, he will be a 60 year old man when you go to prom and even older when he walks you down an aisle, and I am sure he will remember the days of twirling you around the living room floor in all your sparkly Cinderella glory singing your sweet songs.