Happy Father's Day to the man who taught my kids to love Rolling Stones and Smashing Pumpkins (even if they sometimes get confused and refer to them collectively as "The Rolling Pumpkins",) Star Wars (which I personally could live without,) bacon (taught me to love it too, sadly,) and all things sports related. The same man patiently read "Arthur's Underwear" to them tonight when I was tired and grumpy and said no more stories, is helping Eli learn to pee standing up, and started a soccer class using our church's gym just so Eli would get to play this year, too. He is very laid back about all the things I fret about (baths, nail trimming, clean sheets, safety before fun, not jumping on the furniture FTLOG) but his kids love him for it, and seem none the worse for it. Maybe even better.
Jim, you are a fun loving, wise, patient and unselfish father, and I hope you know how lucky your kids and I feel to have you. Every morning after you leaves, one or both of them inquire, "Will Daddy be home soon?" And you always are, but never soon enough for their taste. I can't imagine what we would do without you, and I hope we never have to find out. We love you!