As I sit here staring at my computer screen, entirely too late in the evening on Father's Day, I can't help but erase everything I start to write. Nothing I put into words seems to be enough, and most of it comes across as silly or cheesy when I read it back to myself.
So I'm just gonna go ahead and say it, cheese-factor be damned.
Every little girl has a daddy, a man who she loves unconditionally, who she idolizes like no other. Mine is called Pop. The Princess's is called Da (or The Hubbs, but, hey...this is about daddies, not hubbies, so we'll use her name for him). Others in my family include Grampy, Great Grampy, M, A, Uncle J, Uncle C, and Hambone.
No matter what you're called, you all have one thing in common: each and every one of you is a daddy. Each of you is high up on that pedestal with good reason, and each of you is loved more than you could ever possibly know.
Here's hoping your Father's Day was half as special as your kiddos think you are.
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