Daddy’s Little Girl
Today I want to put aside all the crazy, ridiculousness, and drama in my life…forget about bitchy girls, what fraternity we’ll have our first mixer with in the fall, the fact that the VS semi-annual sale is going on right now, and for 25 seconds forget that I’m boy crazy. The only boy that matters is the one who made it all possible, the most amazing, incredible man in my life: my Daddy, without whom I wouldn’t be half the girl I am today. Literally. Half of me would be different without him. (Cheesy joke. Oops.)
Growing up, the highlight of my day was when my dad would come home from work, open the door, get down on his knee and open his arms to embrace my little brother and me, our mom trailing with some kitchen utensil behind us prepared for him with a kiss slash nagging about whatever mischief we’d gotten ourselves into that day right behind us. He naturally handled the situation flawlessly, calming my mom down, reprimanding us if necessary, and a discreet wink in our direction to let us know we weren’t really in trouble. I thought he was the most smart, handsome, cool, amazing man in the world, and when it boils down to it, my opinion hasn’t changed that much. I mean, granted, I’ve realized he can be a big dork sometimes, and the handsome has been sliiiiigghtly compromised by twenty years of my mother’s cooking, and the fact that he’s slowly making the shift from having a bald spot to having a hair spot (kidding! He won’t be classified as a man with a hair spot for like 10 or 15 years! But he totally should have invested in rogaine when I first suggested it twelve years ago because I didn’t realize it was an insult)…but mostly he’s not getting old, he’s getting distinguished. I’m getting old, and realizing more and more every year how lucky I am to have such a great dad.
I am so lucky to have grown up with a father who always encouraged me to do and be anything I wanted to. He helped me build my snowmen and sand castles. He spent hours jumping waves with me at the beach sacrificing his Maui Jims more times than I can count to the ocean because I was afraid to get my head wet. He never missed a single one of my dance performances (even though I’m pretty sure he snuck out to have a catch with my little brother in between my thirteen numbers every year). He taught me how to throw a ball, well…he tried to, and came to my softball games before I decided that alternating between bench and outfield wasn’t that fun, and maybe sports weren’t really my thing. He taught me how to drive, and pretended not to be terrified when I made a left on red. He was as nice as he could force himself to be to all my boyfriends even though I could tell he was writhing inside. And more importantly, he was nice to me when boys made me cry. Not a day in my life has gone by that he didn’t make me feel beautiful, and special, and loved, and I can only hope that I end up with someone who’s half the man he is. He taught me that I deserve the best and that there are men who know how to treat women.
I’m so thankful for all the things he’s given to me. For the life we live. For how hard he’s worked to ensure that my brothers and I have the best. I’m thankful for all the things he’s taught me. I’m thankful for him being there when my mother drives me absolutely insane (and it happens a lot. A lot lot). I’m thankful he didn’t open his bank statement yet this month. But mostly I’m just thankful for him as a person.
I love you so much Daddy and I hope you always always know that! You’re my number one guy, forever and I’ll always be your little girl. Happy Father’s Day from your princess!
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