I can remember when I was a kid – I must have been four or five around this time – and the playground below our house would be just one giant mud field. The snow would just be melting and my sister and I would be transitioning from our winter snow pants into our spring splash pants. We’d exchange our winter boots for our gum boots and mom and dad would tell us to stay out of the mud down at the playground. We could play on the actual playground itself, but the giant mud puddle was forbidden.
We never listened.
We would start off splashing in the puddles, getting absolutely soaked and work our way further into the mud field until…
We would scream bloody murder for dad to come and save us because our boots would get sucked into the mud, trapping us in place and leaving us stranded in the middle of what I thought was the worlds biggest puddle. We’d be up to our shins and higher, screaming at the top of our lungs and our giant of a father would come and rescue us. Every. Single. Time.
And without fail for the past 25 years, my dad has been there. Always. Every. Single. Time.
Today he turned 50. He’s carried me through the tough stuff in life until I could learn to walk it on my own. He took me bra shopping and fearlessly buys tampons when they’re needed. He takes care of his family. He’s taught me how to have fun…even at 5am on game days or when grocery shopping is so mundane and boring that it hurts.
So here’s to the father who’s another year older
And cheers to my dad who is as strong as a boulder
Happy birthday to the man who is…
Losing his hair
And is always disgustingly right.
Seriously, I don’t remember my dad ever being wrong! It’s just downright freaky that someone could be right all the time for 25 years! I’ve even tried to catch him being wrong and it just never happens. Either way though, happy 50th birthday to my dad!