Here’s to the first Dad that I ever knew. His hard working nature puts even farmers in the depression era to shame. He’s always been proud of me, braggin’ on me when I didn’t deserve it (my only extra curricular activities involved Girl Scouting and reading American Girl doll historical novels). He can fix a water heater, patch and refinish a hard wood floor, rebuild a Hot Rod, and paint and landscape, and just about do it all. He’s a handsome stud and I love him.
Then there’s this guy. Please ignore the fact that he looks like an extra from 1999’s “10 Things I Hate About You.” He’s my brohaus. The Jake Gyllenhaal to my Maggie. The John Cusack to my Joan. The Mary Kate to my Ashley. He had mad babies before me. So hats off to him.
And him. He’s a great dad. He valiantly changes poopy diapers. He quietly laughs with me behind our children’s backs. He makes a killer taco and is crucial to every DIY project I try to do. He also goes to work everyday so I can hang out with Owen and Maisy all day everyday which is the most generous gift I could ever hope for.
I love all the Dad’s in my life!