I love my Dad. Like, a lot.
He’s been a great husband to my mom for 30 years – and they still have major fun together.
A great to Dad to me for 29 years (and my siblings for 27 and 24).
And a great friend, mentor, co-worker, brother, son, man of faith and athlete.
When I was younger, I used to think he was way too intense, worked too hard and was way too hard on himself. I didn’t think we were anything alike. Now I realize we are MUCH more similar than we are different – and I’m proud of that because there’s no one else I’d rather be like and no man I’d rather have as my father.
He has three rules that governed our house:
1. “Manners are free.” (aka Do not be mean to one another/say please and thank you/do not burp at the dinner table).
He never said anything about sleeping at the dinner table.
2. “Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.” (aka Do not do stupid things/Stop said stupid thing RIGHT NOW.)
Not sure how my sister and I ended up in this tree, but please note my amazing Pac-Man t-shirt/shag-mullet.
3. “Make good choices. Help others make good choices. If they’re not making good choices, get the hell outta there.” (Pretty self explanatory).
(Good choices were not made for this first day of sixth grade pictures. I was really into flannel.)
Thanks for always being there for me, teaching me, supporting me and loving me, Dad! Can’t wait to dance with you next June!