Don’t Know Much Biology.
Happy Father’s Day to the man (Mr. Aunt Becky) I didn’t know I could hope to marry. Sure, you dragged me, kicking and screaming to the alter by my hair, but you know now how lovingly I look at you as I grab your hand, shove your wedding ring in your face and say, “You see THIS RING? It means I OWN YOU.” See, it’s because I love you so very much that I perform such acts of idiocy.
You’re a good guy, The Daver, you always are. No matter how many orphans (or cute cuddly kittens) I rescue from burning buildings (current tally: 0. But I have faith that I’ll do some rescuing soon), you will always be my better half. I can’t top you on that one, even if I can possibly beat your ass. You wouldn’t hurt a PREGNANT LADY would you, Daver? I didn’t think so.
You told me this morning that Ben was going to be a great dad, as he played with his doll Seth the same way you were playing with Alex. And you’re right, Ben will be a great dad. He learned it all from you. Those boys are fortunate to have you, and maybe they won’t always recognize it or think you’re especially “cool” but in their hearts they always will. They’ll always know that the lasting damage was caused by seeing their mother breastfeed, not by you spraying them with the hose.
I love you, and I’m happy to have you in my life. Even if you never change the toilet paper roll. Or manage to place your laundry IN the basket (It PUTS THE LAUNDRY IN THE BASKET). Or notice when I get my hairs did. Because maybe *I* won’t notice when I dump 5 gallons of bleach onto YOUR CLOTHES.
I’m just sayin’.
So, Happy Father’s day to all of you dudes. Your wives (and Aunt Becky, in a purely platonic way) love you.
Ahhhh, a better love story was never wrote…
Ah, the love between you and the Daver is so innocent and pure. I hope Mr. Uncle Becky has a great father’s day, 100% bleach free.
Awwww. You had me at “bleach.”
You had me at “I OWN YOU.”
how is it that harlequin hasn’t snapped you us as their newest, best author?
Aunt Becky, you cut me up even when you’re being sentimental…
Happy Father’s Day to the Daver!
To The Daver,
I hope Aunt Becky has no bathrooms to remodel (snort!), no diet Cokes for you fetch, and no stink bombs from Alex with your name on them; in other words, I hope you get to kick it the way The Daver kicks it.
Happy Father’s Day.
“Those boys are fortunate to have you, and maybe they won’t always recognize it or think you’re especially “cool†but in their hearts they always will.”
This was beautiful.
Happy Father’s Day. 🙂
Awwww – you melt my cold dark heart. Happy Father’s Day Daver!
I’m not sure about “you had me at ‘I OWN YOU'” but I sure spit up some diet soda through my nose right then. And nothing says Happy Father’s Day like clearing out the olfactories.
Yeah, the own you part. I love it.
He’s a lucky dude. Happy Father’s Day.
Awww…that’s got to be the sweetest…um…love letter I’ve ever read!
tee hee. (but awwwww.)
What is it with men and their inability to put their dirty clothes in the laundry?! I find Kent’s dirty socks in every room – but never in a basket. Argh.
Why does he need to put the laundry in the basket? At my house, it doesn’t matter if I “sink” my shot or if it goes wide. Somehow the clothes always end up in the basket. Isn’t it that way at your house?
Also, toilet paper rolls need changing? Seriously?
Aww thats sweet! Happy Fathers Day To the DAVERS.
Happy Father’s Day to the Daver! 🙂
God, I can’t wait until our wedding. I’m totally going to do the “I own you” thing all the time.
Wow, thanks, Internet! I had a fantastic father’s day: I played with the boys, watched soccer, hung out with Becky, and Didn’t Work. It was one of the most pleasant days I can recall of late.
AND I didn’t get my clothes bleached. Yet.
Oh, and I must point out: Becky says she OWNS me, and it’s pretty much true. But it’s like owning a fancy car or a puppy: sometimes I look good, go fast, do what she wants, poop outside, etc., and sometimes I need to go to the shop, the vet, or be squirted with the spray bottle. The good news is she still seems to like me even when I’m broken down. (though the pooping on the carpet NEVER goes over well….)
Oh, what better way to tell The Daver you love him than with a reference to “Silence of the Lambs.” Daver, if she eyes you suspiciously as she prepares fava beans and has a nice Chiante chilling, you’d better start running in protection of your liver.
You two are great.
so sweet! Happy father’s Day to the Daver.