Dad's

So I was at chickolay this morning for breakfast; and right beside me was this handsome young man and his two beautiful daughters.  My heart quickened a bit, as I love to see Dad's interact with their daughters.  He was probably 37, with a night and day daughter.  The night was about 10, and the day was about 7, and looked to be a splitting image of her Dad, so night had to have looked like Mom.

I have a special appreciation/admiration for daughter Daddy's (being one myself), not that I have anything at all against boy Daddy's, since they have a special role to play too in raising their apes to one day be about 10% worthy of marrying off the daughter's of the world.  But, my bond is with the daughter Daddy's.

This guy could easily have been misinterpreted as mean (as I have been myself).  He was almost identical to me in size from the butt up at 6'1", 220 lbs, had a nice broad chest to waist ratio, shoulders back, and bald.  Shaved bald like me too.  (I should have started doing that in my 30's). 

He had a natural aire of intimidation to him (which I've been accused of 10,001 times in my life), complete with a bicep tattoo on one arm, and a nice diamond stud in one ear.  No, I'll always skip on the tats and earrings for my bod, and things like that would have bothered me 20 years ago when I was more judgemental, but this guy was doing it for style, and it looked really good on him.

I knew though when I saw him smile at his daughters; knew when I saw him listen to them; knew when I saw him rub night's hair, and then touch day's face; that this guy was pretty cool in my book, as they loved him as their Daddy just as much as he was loving them.  He loved his daughter's, and was probably heading to work at Life Fitness across the street given the workout outfit that he had on.

He does need to work on those calves though.  Goodness, those are some bad birdlegs (kind of reminded me of WP's birdlegs, whom is also the one that while speaking Wuh, calls Chick-Fil-A by his name of chickolay.)

Yesterday was Father's Day.  Duh.  My day is 33, and my night is 31.  I love my girls, and am absolutely as proud to be their Dad today as I was on the day they were born.  I know this mystery breakfast man at chickolay feels the same way about his girls ~ way to go Dad, you're doing it right.