Want to know a secret?
I have the world’s best dad.
Some might think I’m exaggerating (especially if you read this post) but I’m not.
He’s the best. I’ll tell you why.
My dad made breakfast for our family every day. And this wasn’t just a quick bowl of cereal … it was a full on three course breakfast. Every single day. Wednesdays were egg days. Friday was coffee cake. And don’t even get me started on Sunday Morning Breakfast. (WOO!)
When we were little, we used to get on his back and play with his hair. Then we’d say, “Do pushups, Dad!” and our dad – obviously the strongest man on the planet – would do pushups with us on his back.
At night when we were tired he would carry us, all four of us, up the stairs at one time.
Every night he would sit on the landing between our bedrooms and read books to us. He’d read until he dozed off and we’d have to yell at him to wake him up.
He makes the best ice cream in the world. Seriously. My current favorite is Coffee Toffee. I’m a diehard fan of his Mint Chip and the Oreo is pretty amazing too.
When it would frost when I was in high school, I’d walk out the door for school and without fail, I’d find my windows scraped and the car toasty warm.
Speaking of snow, whenever some fell – even just a dusting – he was out shoveling the sidewalk. But he didn’t stop at the edge of our yard. Often he’d shovel the whole block. Just because.
He loves my mom without condition … the way I hope my husband loves me someday.
I could go on. But this is starting to sound like a eugugoly so I’ll stop.
Happy birthday, Daddy.
I love you.