Dear Daddy,
Sorry you never had a chance to meet Natalie. She’s quite the handful. Some people say she reminds them of me. I named her after you. She’s got your forehead. Then again, so do I. (Seriously, Thanks for that. I can’t enter a room without it being noticed.)
No word yet on whether she inherited your chicken legs. But I’ve been keeping watch whenever she wears Capri pants. That’s the correct term for the khaki pants you’d wear around the house. (I thought you were preparing for a flood. How was I supposed to know you were a trend forecaster?)
In news straight from the Vegetarian Times, Luke still won’t eat meat. (Won’t as in … off the table it goes. If we had a dog, we’d be forced to call it Gordo.) Two things are for sure though; Luke has yet to have a terrible two moment (knock on wood) and is pretty much a vegetarian.
I have a grocery list of acceptable foods he will eat. I know, I know. Just like me. You should see him eat bread. Just like you. It reminds me of the baguettes you would bring home every day. He loves baguettes, too.
Harrison is still known by no other name. Trying to first get used to his name and well, him. No word yet on whether he will join the ranks of the vegetarians or the handfuls. So far, it’s tied 0-0.
If you are able to see my children, I hope what they are doing is making you smile… laugh… shake your head in disbelief. I wish they could have met you. Some of my best memories come from growing up with you around.
Happy Father’s Day. Can’t believe its been seven years.
pieto
