Tag Archives: Father’s Day

Dad’s day


I do realize that it is 9:00 p.m. on Father’s Day, but it is STILL Father’s Day so I can write this. (especially since my dad is in the middle of the ocean and won’t read this until later anyway)

Dear dad,

First of all, you rock! You’re for sure in the top 5 coolest dads in the world. You taught me to do many things. Like math and ride a bike. You taught me to drive a stick. That may have backfired on you because it really impressed the boys. You taught me many life lessons. You also taught me about condensation on a Wendy’s cup on the way to church one Wednesday. You talked me out of panic attacks many times. I learned how to grill a steak from watching you on the weekends. (which is useful since Brent can’t/ hasn’t ever tried) You make up really great songs. Like, “My Chalupa”, an ode to Taco Bell. You make me laugh all the time, even when mom tells me to “stop encouraging you”. You taught me a lot of my logic. This may, or may not be, a good thing- the jury is still out. You were and are always there for me. Even though you never return my emails until I tell on you to mom. I’m glad to call you my dad and I’m glad Mason can call you his granddad. I love you a lot!


Lindsey- your favorite daughter.

Mason also wrote a letter to his dad.

Dear daddy,

I realize you are pretty new at this stuff. I was pretty worried the first time you changed my diaper, but you seemed to have figured most of it out. I’ve been trying to provide you with a lot of practice. I’ve only had a dad for 3 months, but I think you are on the right track. I’m glad you wake up with me at night and don’t make mommy get up. She’s not really that fun when she is tired. (don’t tell her I said that, but am I right or what?) Thank you for giving mommy money to buy me all this stuff. I really like toys and they aren’t cheap. My favorite is when we get to meet you for lunch during the day. That way, I won’t forget what you look like before you get home.  I love you a lot! I know the only way I can show it is by spitting up on you, but that’s baby-code for “love”.