It’s nice to know that life is not a stationary pool of sadness and "what if"s.
Thank you for being such a good father, Monsieur Meow.
And thank you to my step-father, an imperfect man and a flawed one, who nevertheless was more of a father to me than my own has ever been. Thank you, you big grouch, wherever you may be.
Thank you, good fathers, grandfathers, godfathers, stepfathers and father figures of the world
for cheering us on
and going to boring events that cannot possibly interest you aside from our part in them
and for getting jam on your silk ties
and for wearing pretty pretty tutus
and for taking one for the team
and for keeping the baby busy while we clean up or blog
and for smiling through the tears after getting kneed in the groin
and for reading "Hippos Go Berserk" for the 45th time
and for stepping in when you’re needed
and for being a shoulder to cry on
and for sending silly baubles we really do not need but which made us laugh
and for taking us to the soccer game even if we couldn’t even see because we were so very little
and for telling us point blank that the guy was a jerk
and for showing us how to make a gin gimlet
and for holding us close when we’re crying and telling us that we deserve better.
Every day, we’re better women because of men like you.