Me and the Grace-face have a nasty cold but I woke up to tape little paper Gracie-handprints all over the house to tell Daddy everything that we love, love, love about him. There were 24 hands (which was not nearly enough to include all the reasons, but at 10:00 last night when I finally was able to sit down and finish them, it was enough for my brain and energy to create.) So at 7:00 this morning (which obscene around here in the summer) I taped little hand-y-love-notes all over the house with my eyes about to burst under an enormous balloon of increasing sinus pressure and went back to bed with a happy little smile (and two tablets of Aleve) about the treat Daddy would wake up to. Some time later, I made breakfast, and the decision to skip church after the Grace-face sneezed and two enormous strands of green fluid draped from her nose to her chin; I thought it best not to share such amazing feats with others. After Daddy found all the little handprints, we hugged and kissed him till I am sure that it is just a matter of time before he finds himself needing to be very careful when he sneezes too.
The rest of the morning was spent getting my very own Daddy’s present ready. It came in three parts. A box of ammo from Gracie. A big-ol’ box of clay pigeons from the Josh-man. And a clay-pigeon thrower assembled and mounted to a tire from the kids. We we’re as excited as the proverbial kids on Christmas to give our Daddy this loot. We even broke years of Bockholt family tradition this time and opened presents first, before dinner and cake and all that. Because you see, I probably have the best dad ever. He’s been faced with a mountain of hard things in his life and has come out on top, with a wife, kids, and grandbabies that love him to pieces and take pride in the fact that we share his best quirk: we start conversations in the middle of a long train of thought and leave everyone else in the room wondering where in the heck the comment came from.
So to all of our Daddies and Papas out there (Daddy Bockholt, Dad Herrick, Grandpa Riggs, Grandpa Harley, Grandpa Ron, Granddad, Gramps, and ALL the Brothers –Blaine, Blake, Rob, Tim, Scott, Christian, Mike, Matt and Brian) Happy Father’s Day. We love you. A lot.
And ESPECIALLY you, Paul.
