Those Things You Do
There are so many sweet things you do that make you such a wonderful father and husband.
Cakes exclaims, in her loud demanding tone, thirty times a day, “daddy!” to which you reply every time in that same soft patient voice, “yes Cakes?”
You had to work again this weekend. Before you left, you made me a huge bowl of tabouleh and offered to make a pasta salad too. You also gassed up the car and stocked up the beer.
You support me in my dreams and ambitions that are, thus far, not making us any money.
You know Cakes just as well as I do, and you can look after her just as well as I can. I trust you one hundred percent when you’re with her.
When you put Cakes to bed you read I Can Read With My Eyes Shut not once, but twice. Not only do you do that, you also look through the photo albums and let her run around naked for a while. You’re never in a rush.
When we go to bed at night, you can’t walk by Cakes room without looking in on her, though we don’t hear a peep and we know she’s fast asleep.
I see the adoration in her eyes when she looks at you and I’m so happy you’re her father.
Happy Fathers’ Day, McHotty. You’re the best. We love you.