At 4 and 2 years old, our girls are just catching on to the idea that we have holidays to celebrate each other. So they were eager to help their mommy plan a special Father’s Day for me, filled with “my favorite things”.
First, we watched a selection of musical numbers from Annie on Youtube – followed by pancakes for breakfast, a tea party at lunch, a dance party in the afternoon, and ice cream after dinner, (with rainbow sprinkles, of course. “My” favorite.) Though Jen tried to steer them otherwise, the girls were very confident in their gift choices for me, and could not be persuaded. Jalen chose marshmallows and Emmery chose licorice. It cracked me up to open their packages, and hear them squeal, “It’s your favorite, Daddy! I got your favorite!”. I probably haven’t eaten marshmallows or licorice in their whole lives. But I gotta admit, I’m a bit fonder of both of them now.
Over the last several days, I’ve recounted my four-year journey being Jalen and Em’s Daddy. And I can’t help but think back to another me I used to be just seven years ago. I was single with no kids, and life was awesome! I saw all the new movies and every concert that came to town. I played music at all hours without interference from the volume police. I traveled. I slept in. I had plenty of time with my friends, and a little more “me” money in my pocket.
