Thanks, Dad.

We don’t always get along perfectly. We both like to do things Our Way and often those ways lead us to find ourselves with our heads butted against the one anothers’—especially when My Way leaves big gaping nail holes in the pantry wall. (Again, sorry about that.)

Sometimes, you’re frustrating. I want to go and do and try and I certainly don’t want to wait to thoroughly read the instructions on that IKEA Wardrobe we put together, forgetting that you’ve already been there and done that, and you probably know a better way if I’d just stop to listen.

And when I grab my kite and run as fast as I can, desperately trying to make it fly, you call me back and show me how to let the wind catch its sails and teach me not to let the string go too slack so that I don’t lose control.

So thanks, Dad, for being a constant source of support, be it in the stands of all of my soccer games or while sitting at the table explaining business taxes. Thanks for instilling just a little bit of your entrepreneurial spirit in me. Thanks for being an example of what it means to work hard for your family. Thanks for being the source of my freckles and ginger locks. Thanks for liking me enough to include me in some of your many hobbies. And thanks for loving me enough to continue to teach me lessons even when I pretend like I don’t need them.

Happy Fathers Day, Dad.

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