Here's a little story . . . . .

that I'd like to tell,
it's about a little girl that I knew so well.

Okay, that's as far as my skillz will take me this morning. I'm tired.

But I do have a little story to tell ya. It's in honor of Father's Day.

When I was little my Dad worked a lot. He worked hard so that my Mom could stay at home with us kids. He would be gone before I woke up, and then usually he would roll in around dinner time. Usually when he came home we would be outside playing, most of my childhood memories are outside playing . . . . . maybe we lived outside, . . . . . did we have a house?

Anyways I digress, he would pull up into the drive way and a lot of the times we would be riding our bikes in the drive, and he would pull up and pretend like he was gonna chase us down and run us over. It was a lot funner than it sounds!! We loved it.

He would always hand one of us girls his lunch box and we would scour through it to make sure he didn't accidentally leave a ding-dong or something in there. And then we would follow him in the house and have the "shoe race!" He worked construction (still does) so he would always wear these big ole' lace up boots to work. He would come in and my sister would take one shoe, and I would take the other, and he would yell "GO", and we would have a race to see who could unlace his shoe, take it off, and his sock, and run it to the front door first.

Again, this was much funner than it sounds.

Now that I am writing about this, it sounds like we grew up in the stone age or something. Did we not have any toys to play with? Why would taking off Dad's shoes be the highlight of our day!?!

Maybe because it's the little day to day things that we remember the fondest.

The nick names my Dad called me - "Turkey Butt Yo-Yo- Head" or "Bone Butt" or "Holther."
The Saturday clean up days, started off by a trip to Doughnuts, then rocking out to ACDC as we cleaned the yard. Followed by playing in the sprinklers and having a BBQ.
The fun trips to the dump. (No, I'm not being sarcastic, I loved going to the dump with my Dad.)
The times when my Mom would have my Dad stop and bring dinner home. He would come home with one giant bag . . . . full of burgers. He would just dump the whole bag on the table and like a hundred burgers would cascade all over the table.

Sure, I remember the big stuff too, the trips to the lake, the Daddy Daughter Pig Party, our vacations . . . . . . but it's the little everyday things that I think of the most. It's the little everyday things that made me such that "daddy's girl" that I was. It's the little everyday things that make me so grateful for my daddy! And it's the little everyday things that carry on for generations.

I feel so blessed to have married such a great guy that has turned into such a wonderful Dad, too. I see him do the "everyday things" with our kids, and it makes me melt.

How did I become the luckiest girl in the world?