Here in the States, we are celebrating fathers today.  My Dad and I have always been close – I was a Daddy’s girl from the get-go. Mom says when I was a Terrible Two, he would call home during his lunch. Almost always she would complain how awful I was behaving. (remember, Mom was 19 when I was 2. Maybe 20. They lived in Maryland and life was much different than it is now.) She and I butted heads from the time I could walk, apparently. Either way, he would tell her to put me on the phone. He would then ask me if I was being a bad girl and I would lay the phone down and cry and cry and cry because I didn’t want my dad to think I was bad girl.

Time has smoothed the rough edges in mine and mom’s relationship. Especially now. But I’m still a Daddy’s girl.


He also stepped back up to the plate when my ex husband became a deadbeat and became the father my son needed when his own father refused to do so. I can’t think of a better father-figure.

Happy Father’s Day to my dad and to all of yours!