The kids have a ball playing and wrassling with their dad. Watching them reminded me so much of when I was little and we used to play with my dad. It brought back some very sweet memories of Dad holding our hands and rubbing his whiskers with them, making us giggle. We rode on Dad's feet and climbed two-at-a-time into the legs of his sweathpants, stretching them out beyond recognition. He laughed at us as if we were really funny. I remember how there were few better sounds than Dad coming through the door at the end of the day, running to him yelling "Daddy!" as loud as we could. It is very fulfilling to hear my little ones doing the same thing. It is sometimes enough to make me quite homesick for simpler times, when I could just let me dad take care of everything, and I knew he would make it all o.k. I am so grateful that I have a dad that still takes care of us when we need him, and that he loves my children and plays with them like he used to with me. I am also very grateful my husband is in every way worthy to be a father, and who does such a fantastic job; I may even say, equal to my own Dad:)
No comments:
Post a Comment