"Hi Stuffed, nice to meet you."
This is one of the thousands upon thousands of jokes that my dad will repeat over and over and over again, thus painting a picture of my childhood. Never will I ever be able to overstate how much I adore my father. He would have been the best father to a boy. Teaching him how to play catch in the back yard, taking him to ball games. Talking about cars and fishing for hours. Having someone to watch the racing network with who won't be cringing the whole time. Yet somehow, he ended up with three daughters. When his airport buddies (my dad is a pilot) hear that he has three girls, the reaction is always the same: "My condolences!" with a big roar of laughter. But looking back on my Dad, and how he has raised my sisters and I, I can't imagine him being happier with a son instead of one of his daughters.
I'm sure it's not always easy for my Dad, being in a house in which he is a minority. He is outnumbered in everything. What to watch, where to go, what movie to see. We have made him stand there and hold our bags while we try on dress after dress. We have made him sit through more Sandra Bullock movies than is probably healthy for a male. For these things, I know being the only boy in the house has been difficult. But he somehow manages with a smile on his face. I will also never cease to believe that my Dad is an absolute genius. Getting hired for his first big time job by putting his resume on a cake. Helping my sisters and I make some of the most impressive school projects in all of school project history. For finding a way to allow his three daughters to visit all fifty states within eleven years. For making all of my friends feel like they're a part of our family when they come over to my house. For knowing what to say to his daughters to make them feel better. For refusing to give up until we have reached perfection. For marrying one of the most amazing women I can think of. My Dad is a genius, and I will cherish so many countless memories with my Dad from since I can barely remember.
Today is Father's Day. Not every girl is as close to their dads as I am. But in most cases, I have no doubt that he has worked his hardest to be a part of your life in the best way he can. Go now and give him a hug. Thank him for the little things. Maybe it refusing to let you give up when you were first trying to ride a bike. Maybe it's for stepping away from the office to watch a movie with you when you were sick when he had a lot of work he really should have been doing instead. Every mom can relate to her daughter without a problem. For dads, it can be a struggle at first. What to talk about? What's to boyishly immature and gross for girls to handle? My Dad is someone I've always been able to relate to. His quirky jokes. His undeniable intelligence. I will never stop being grateful of how wonderful of a person my Dad really is.
Happy Father's Day.
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