Friday’s confession …
OK, I admit it, at 37 years-old, I’m still a bit of a daddy’s girl. Yes, I actually even call him “daddy” from time to time. And while he thought he got rid of me when he walked me down the aisle, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Yes, I’m all grown up now and have the husband, kids, dog and even a little white picket fence. And while I must say it’s nice to relate to him on an adult level, to talk, socialize and even share a beer with my dad, they’ll always be apart of me that’s still his little girl. The one he gave horsy rides on his back when he came home from work; and taught to count in Spanish when he tucked me into bed; and coached my softball team when we lived in Colorado, and came to all my basketball games even though I wouldn’t jump for the rebounds; and taught how to drive in the parking lot of the local college so I could get my license at 16… the list could go on and on.
While I cherish all of my childhood memories, some of my favorite times are happening right now when I see my dad with my children. Sometimes when he and Milan are together, I see me, twenty, ahem, thirty years ago. Wow.
My dad “GP” and Milan
Me and my daddy
My “baby daddy.” Ha. I couldn’t resist.
My father-in-law with Miles. We miss you Pop Pop.
What about you? Are there any other daddy’s girls in the house? Ladies, do tell; and daddies, have a very happy Father’s Day!
Winks & Smiles,