Who’s Your Daddy?

Christmas 2001

 

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Who’s my Daddy?

He felt me kick before I arrived; he talked to me while still inside. He marveled at my tiny hands. When I had gas pains, he smiled back. He was brave enough to change my stinkiest diapers.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He gave me baths until I could take them on my own. He poured water over my face so I wouldn’t be afraid when I got bigger. He tickled me and threw me into the air and caught me – anything to make me smile. He played simple games: like handing the rattle back and forth, letting me squeeze his finger, and rubbing our foreheads together, before I could talk. But I knew he loved me even then.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He was there when I took my first steps. He helped me learn to ride my bike. He patched me up when I fell down, and tried to get me right back on. He held me up when I couldn’t rollerskate – even if it hurt his arm. He loves to throw any kind of ball with me, or help me swing a tennis racquet. When we go to the playground, he goes on everything with me. He’s not afraid to get dirty or sweaty, as long as he gets to play with me.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He’ll play the same silly pool games over and over again. He’ll let me climb up on his shoulders and jump off into the water, long after his arms get tired. When we go to the beach, he’ll hold me as the waves go by, then bodysurf until he can hardly catch his breath. I can bury him in the sand – he doesn’t care – as long as I have fun doing it. He always talks to God when he’s at the beach, or in the woods.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He watches my favorite TV program with me, even if it’s not his favorite. He laughs at cartoons. He’ll play my best video game with me, even though he’s not very good. He’s never afraid to lose to me, but he doesn’t just let me win, either. He loves to take a nap with me and my brother or sister. Even if his leg falls asleep, he won’t ask me to move – he likes having me by him that much. No chair is too small for me and Dad.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He’s the one who knows right where it tickles. He’ll wrestle with me until someone gets hurt. He’s always rubbing my shoulders, or scratching my back, or letting me rub his neck. He’ll let me walk on his back, or on the tops of his feet – even if it hurts a little.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He’ll sing, really loud, with anything that’s on the radio. He’ll rock the car with me until it almost feels like it’s going to tip over. He doesn’t care what people in the other cars think. He only cares what I think. He’s not afraid to act my age. He’ll play the stereo loud, and dance with me in the living room.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He makes up funny words that make no sense. He talks like Goofy, or Mickey Mouse, and sometimes sings a whole song using only the word “meow.” He’ll alternate words with me to make up progressive fairy tales. He’ll make me laugh so hard I sometimes forget to breathe, or when I’m drinking my milk. Sometimes, I don’t even need a reason to laugh with him. He never gets mad if I make fun of him. It’s almost impossible to hurt his feelings.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He’s always got a hug for me. He let’s me mess up his hair, or put a ribbon in it. Having a big dog couldn’t be more fun. If I’m scared at night, he’ll lay down with me for a few minutes until I’m tired. Then, before I know it, he wakes me up again with a song.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He’ll make waffles for me every Saturday, even if he doesn’t want one. I think he could cook anything for me I could want, or at least he would try. He likes to invent his own recipes. He lets me cook too, even if he has to clean up after me.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

He wants to know how everything works. He’s not afraid to take anything apart, even if he can’t put it back together again, but he usually can. He fixes my computer, no matter how many times it breaks. He lets me send e-mail and surf the Web, and he does his best to keep me safe from harm. He knows that he can trust me.

 

Who’s my Daddy?

I never have to wonder if my Daddy loves me. Oh, he tells me all the time. But long after I’m grown up, the Daddy my Daddy’s been will still be with me. Just as I know that his Dad is in him, so he’ll be part of me. Because “forever” is nothing but an unending series of fleeting moments like the ones we share together every day.

 

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