My Dad was a mixture of too bright/too loud optimism in the morning (GOOD MORNING! BRIGHT EYED AND BUSHY TAILED? to which I would mutter a nonintelligible grumble), cold-hearted businessman (You have to stop telling jokes to my secretaries, they can't get their work done.), and slave driving military commander. (10 MINUTES UNTIL ROOM INSPECTION!)
But my Dad had a soft side. Babies. He loved babies. And not just his own babies. He borrowed a baby from a neighbor down the street when she came to visit with my mom. He wished he could have had more.
He practically had to bribe mom to have the fifth child (she insisted on an electric adjustable bed so it would be easier to get up. She got it.)
He loves holding the baby grandkids my sisters and I have given him, but he doesn't get too upset if the baby is just not ready to leave mom yet. One of the reasons my Mom married my Dad, she says, is because he was good with kids. (I think the fact that he was preparing for army service was a factor too. Who wouldn't go for a guy that looks this good in uniform?)
He could be the disciplinarian if he had to be, but we always knew we were loved. And he gave his daughters the example of the kind of man they should look for in a husband/future father.
Which brings me to this guy.
You single ladies can stop salivating because he is MINE!
He has been with me for the birth of all of our children and he has given each of them their first bath. I'd heard tales of babies getting switched/abducted at the hospital and once the kid was out, I sent him to watch over her/him. He isn't squeamish about changing poopy diapers. He volunteered to hold them when they got colicky so I could get a break. He takes them outdoors as much as he can. He does everything he can for them.
I'm still learning how to be a good mom and I'm glad he's on the journey with me.
Happy Father's Day to the two most important men in my life!