Daddy’s, Poppa’s and Grandpa’s


My dad and I are ridiculously similar.  Do you see this picture?  This is my bed, every night.  It’s kind of insane.  While I may wish I had my mothers figure, I am glad I inherited a number of things from my father.


Like cooking and baking.  I remember being quite young, and helping my father to make my brothers chocolate birthday cake.  I was wearing a velvet dress.  I think it was blue.  I have a feeling I insisted on wearing it.  Somehow I managed to dump the entire cake down the front of my dress, ruining both the cake and the dress.  But Dad wasn’t mad about it.


I don’t ever remember him mad as a child.  Teenage years are a different story, but I was awful.  Really, really awful.  What is wrong with teenage girls?


This is quite possibly one of my favorite photo’s of my father.  


I used to love going shopping with my Dad when I was a kid.  He did all of the grocery shopping every Saturday.  Every week he picked up flowers (and still does) for my mother.  When we went shopping or to run errands, I seem to remember coming home with lots of stuffed animals.  I think my Dad was kind of a sucker for my childhood cuteness.


I’m pretty sure I made this face a lot too.


He was and is the best Dad ever.  He is the standard I held every boy I dated, and all but one couldn’t live up.  Even that one probably finds it difficult at times.  My Dad is the perfect mix of a tough guy with a big soft gooey center.  


He was so much fun growing up, and so smart.  He taught me so much.


He still does.  I feel so lucky to have a normal functioning relationship with my father, that so many people I know lack.  He’s become my friend, someone I go to for advice and the best doggie grand-dad around.


This fathers day I made him cinnamon rolls.  He requested this quite a while ago.  So, go do something nice for your Pops and don’t forget, Daddy’s love sweets, so make him some.


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