Dad, Me, Grandma (Dad's Mother)

Dad, Me, Grandma (Dad's Mother)

I suppose most daughters are Daddy’s girls. My Mom stayed home to raise three children (at one time we were all under 3 yrs old) and it was no doubt with a sense of relief, and perhaps a bit of irritation at our extreme joy, that she watched us storm the door the minute my Dad came home from work to cover him with hugs and kisses. Dads were the novelty, Moms weren’t. Today with both parents often at work all day, that may not be quite the case.

I have a kaleidoscope of Dad memories from my childhood and I’ll share just a few silly ones. We kids noticed a hole in the t-shirt he had on and we stuck our little fingers in the hole and started ripping the shirt away—he of course pretended to be upset as we climbed all over him. Lots of laughing and giggling! One year much to our amazement, he came home from work with a HUGE Christmas tree stuffed in the back of a tiny VW. And then there were the times when he scored hula hoops and Beatles tickets when they were almost impossible to get. As you can see from the photo, it’s no wonder that my high school and college girlfriends gushed over him. I could go on and on, but it’s funny how sometimes it’s the little things that stick with you. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

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