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« Baby, won't you please come home | Main | Dilemma »
My Dad always used to let me win at ping pong and wrestling. He taught me how to bait a hook, build a bookshelf, speak my mind and stand up for myself. He once bought me an aquarium because I was upset that my best friend couldn't come spend the night and he hated to see me cry. I'll take the blame for the bad stuff about me, but credit for most of the good stuff goes to my dad.
Happy Birthday Dad.
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear.
- Walt Whitman
I want to get a pet duck and keep it in the bathtub.
I am addicted to chap stick and altoids. I am freakishly flexible.
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Clive Owen |
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Comments (3)
Happy bday to your dad :)
It must be kind of ackward to have a birtday on 9/11.
Posted by Sweety | September 12, 2004 2:29 PM
What a sweet post. Fathers play a very importanat part of our lives.
Posted by Wendy | September 12, 2004 6:41 PM
Ah! You must make him proud! : )
Posted by Gypsy | September 12, 2004 11:52 PM