For the dads who remind us to check our oil. For the dads who taught us how to swing a bat or how to shoot a basket. The dads who coached little league. The dads who taught us how to drive. For the dads who we called when we got in our first car wreck. The dads who drove us to birthday parties and Halloween parties and pool parties. The dads who cheered us on in dance recitals and T ball games. To the dads who let us dance on their feet and gave us piggyback rides. Who signed less-than-stellar report cards and sat with us while we finished our math homework at the kitchen table. The dads who keep pictures of us in their office and wallet. To the dads who helped us move out, and then back home again. For the dads that, when he learned he was having a daughter, learned how to braid hair. For the dads that, when he learned he was having a son, imagined taking him in the garage to learn which was the Phillips and which was the flathead. To the father figures who stepped in and stepped up. To the dads that fix the cars, the T.V., and broken hearts.
Dads, this one is for you.