One of my favorite things that Vivi has said to you as of late was when we recently went to a wedding. In preparation for the wedding, I told her, “Daddy’s getting a
She asked, “What does he need a suit for? Just suitin’ around?”
For suitin’ around.
We also know that it’s pretty normal for you to be wearing one of your Dad t-shirts and a pair of gym shorts fixin’ all the things in and around our house.
You suit. You fix. You’re the jack of all trades and the master of everything up in this casa.
You do it all.
We need you.
You wear all of the titles, Craig. And you wear them comfortably.
You went from being hot boyfriend, to hot fiance, to hot husband, to slightly tired, but hot Daddy and you’ve been idling here for a while.
You do this whole Dad thing with such love, humility and truth. You love ’em hard, but you don’t let them get away with much. (Well done.)
You’re showing them what a good Dad does, how he treats women and how he is 24/7. You’re showing them who a good man is and how he loves.
I’m afraid you may be setting the bar too high and the girls may end up living with us forever, so cuidado with this one, Craig. Be a little more harsh, please – lest they think you’re so great that they can’t find anyone to measure up and they LIVE WITH US FOREVER.
Maybe find your place somewhere in between “Daddy of the Year” and “Dad who doesn’t even remember my birthday.”
YOU love the girls so hard you’re willing to hurt your body for them.
You dislocated your finger on a slip and slide at the School Olympics in FEBRUARY and STILL can’t wear a wedding ring because it’s STILL swollen (he went to the doctor) and you told me a few days ago, you’d do it all over again. You’re not a massochist, you’re a giver.
Who needs to bend their finger? NOT THIS DAD.
You give all.of.the.time to all of us.
You give of your time, your laughter, you quiet and humble sweetness, your patience, your right to the remote.
Living in this house ain’t easy.
The stuff. The girls. The constant talking. The constant feelings.
Even the dogs are girls.
But you handle it with G&V.
Grace and Vodka.
It would seem that any problem, big or small…
Any repair job, sizable or tiny…
Any issue, feeling, explosion between the girls, gigantic or minute… you handle it all.
Cheers, my sweet husband.
You deserve that Vodka and soda.
In all truth, sweet man. There is *no one else* I’d rather be parenting with. You’re a man of empathy and ethics. There is nothing better than watching those girls curl up next to you, fall into the safety of your arms, and cuddle and giggle… or just silent sit with you.
You’re good at what you do.
And you’re so cute.
Happy, happy Father’s Day.