I bet you didn’t know that four-year-olds could blog, but guess what? They can! We’re extra special that way. And maybe we’re also extra special in the way that we notice how awesome our dad is. Most kids our age can’t see it, but we’re advanced.
We notice that you’re so silly. You make us belly laugh more than anyone in the whole world ever could. You push our buttons and make us mad right up to the point where we can’t help but laugh.
You prance – yup, prance – around my dance class and you could care less what you look like. Bossing other people around is one of the things I’m absolutely best at, and you let me tell you how to chassé and arabesque. You give me high fives at my baseball games and you worry day and night about how competitive my baseball league is and what that is teaching me.
We have a chef who lives with us and we just happen to call him dad. You basically make every meal we eat at home – from homemade cinnamon rolls to all the healthy recipes mommy requests that we try, but doesn’t make herself. And you teach us how to cook too. Honestly, we think maybe you should give mommy some lessons too. When you are not here the food she makes us isn’t nearly as good.
You mow the lawn and clean the house (seriously, what does our mom even do?) and you never complain about any of it. You stay up late on Christmas Eve putting dollhouses together, you read books in super funny voices and make up words that we know aren’t in those stories. You sing the craziest songs with us, you pull us on sleds through the snow while mommy takes photos (and you put up with how many photos she takes). You throw us up way too high on the beach and you build sand castles. You work really hard.
You’ve had to worry about mommy a lot. And this means that on top of the two of us, you’ve had to take care of her through surgeries and outcomes that broke you. But you were our strength. You talked to us and prepared us and let us ask 5,387 questions.
You love us deeply.
It just seems to us that sometimes dad get a reputation of being the helper or just the guy who is silly while mom does all the work, or the guy who works all the time. We swoon over moms on Mother’s Day and give them all the glory they rightfully deserve but on Father’s Day we almost just give dads a pat on the back and say, “Nice try”. Well, this Father’s Day we want to celebrate the dad who does everything. We’re extra special in this way mostly because we have an extra special dad.