Her father called her Dutch and she adored him. He was older and tall, the consummate father who returned at the end of the day to an orderly home, a loving wife, a son, and one precious daughter.
Dad called me Boo. Saturday mornings were the best part of the week: breakfast at Sydney's, haircuts and car washes, time spent in the uninterrupted adoration of my father who always gave in and sat at the counter.
Mary comes by it naturally, following her mother and great aunt in her all consuming love for her dad. She squeals "DAD" when he walks in a room and for a minute or two there is no one else in the world.
Happy Father's Day, that every little girl should be so lucky.
Dad called me Boo. Saturday mornings were the best part of the week: breakfast at Sydney's, haircuts and car washes, time spent in the uninterrupted adoration of my father who always gave in and sat at the counter.
Mary comes by it naturally, following her mother and great aunt in her all consuming love for her dad. She squeals "DAD" when he walks in a room and for a minute or two there is no one else in the world.
Happy Father's Day, that every little girl should be so lucky.
Image courtesy of Clive Reedman, Flickr
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