I love my dad.
I don't call him daddy.
I think that's weird.
He is the greatest.
He'll do anything for us.
He is proud of my mother.
He doesn't let anyone disrespect any of his girls.
He is a teacher of life skills.
I can weed eat without getting cut (breaking the glass door is another question. . . )
I can mow and not miss a single spot.
I look like him.
He has an opinion but only uses it when needed making moments even sweeter.
He falls asleep when I cut his hair.
He has a secret stash of Necco's or some other treat that I like to steal. . . sorry dad!
I call my dad names like Old Man and he secretly thinks it's awesome.
He is the best grandpa to my nieces and nephews and when he's a grandpa to our kiddos, I can only imagine the magic that he will teach them.
I love my dad. He is a fantastic dancer.
He always smells good.
He mows the lawn and jumps in the pool with his clothes on.
He'd flicker the light when he heard us come home from dates to eliminate the door scene.
He kills bugs but makes us clean them.
He loves sweet treats.
He has a great laugh.
He is a plumber and electrician, but only for kicks.
He can fix anything.
He loves the Shawshank Redemption.
He taught me the smooth jazz beauty of the world.
He drove me to school every morning one year.
When we drove to church the same song would come on every time. It's destiny to have a song.
I'm his favorite youngest daughter he'll ever have.
He wears a great shirt on the Fourth of July.
He lights firecrackers in our backyard.
He hunts for scorpions with the grandbabes and even husbands. The husbands love it more than the babes!