Growing up, I was very much a “Daddy’s girl”. I share his big brown eyes and love of family. When I was little, I loved hearing the story about how when I was born, and the doctor announced that I was a girl, my Dad said, “that’s impossible” because I was the first born girl in 5 generations on his side.
I loved being tossed in the swimming pool like a rocket, over and over again. Being taught to ride my new blue bike with the white banana seat. I am not sure how many times we went around the cul-de-sac before my Dad finally let go. Hearing his whistle four blocks away when it was time for dinner. Mostly I love seeing his face when he has been overwhelmingly proud of me.
As I have gotten older, I have learned to appreciate our hour long Sunday phone calls about nothing. His obsessions with telling me about the trees they planted on top of the tunnel again and again or the temperature of the swimming pool. He tells me about the pool to make me jealous and because he secretly wants me to come home.
I wish I had more pictures of my Dad and I from when I was little. Our family were not big picture takers and most of the ones I have were given to me from other people. Here is one of my favorite pictures from my wedding day. I loved dancing with my Daddy. Plus a recent one.
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MommyMandi says
I call him dad or daddy.
jmajor4870 says
dad or daddy
JSweeps says
Dad
Tylerpants says
I call him Dad. tylerpants(at)gmail.com