Father's Day began early. My married daughter stopped by Saturday afternoon with pumpkin bread, my favorite, and a much needed kitchen appliance. Her sisters wanted her to come for Father's Day
dinner, but I knew she wouldn't. Her job for Sunday was to help her children give their dad a wonderful day, and I'm proud that she knows that. That's how she was raised.
Two of my daughters stayed the night Saturday. They spent an hour in their room, "don’t come in, daddy," then came out at 12:10 a.m. with gifts and handmade "I love you, Dadster" posters. My nickname has been "Dadoo" ever since we used to watch Animaniacs together, but now apparently it’s "Dadster."
We had a wonderful and wacky meal together Sunday afternoon, the five of us. My four daughters like to sing around the Sunday dinner table, and it is so sweet. They gave me thoughtful gifts, but the best part was just having them there. The married daughter came to town unexpectedly with her family, and we ended up all of us eating our strawberry-cream cake together. It was a great day that ended well.
