Monday, June 22, 2009

Yo, pops

Father's Day 2009 was a virtual bonanza of festivities: the awesome shower my aunts, Uncle Tito, Mimi, and Pops had for us, dad's birthday, and Father's Day. I think all three of us enjoyed spending it family.

And I wrote my dad a nice letter (and mom thought it might be nice to move it to my blog from her blog):

Dear Dad,
I wanted to wish you a happy dad's day -- this year is probably the quietest one you'll have from here on out. I'm super excited to meet you and mom. You guys keep telling me how much you want to meet me -- in 4 months. No fair: you sort of know what I look like? Send some silhouettes in here or something. Or at least a little rabbit silhouette action. Mostly, I just guess you kind of look like me -- maybe not as hairy.

Here's what I know about you already just from listening:
  1. Honestly, you seem a little goofy, but you make mom laugh, which is really nice. Hopefully I'm just as wacky as you.
  2. I know you're super smart, dad, so please teach me lots of math and legalese. That way I can bust out a little Pythagorean Theorem or an ERISA lecture on the playground.
  3. Mom's pretty sure your fashion sense is comparable to a color blind monkey, so maybe don't teach me that part. Of course, mom does want to dress us in semi-matching Adidas track suits, which seems a little ghey, so maybe she isn't the best judge. Speaking of of fashion, mom really wishes you still had that Caramello t-shirt to wrap me in after I'm born, but ... the irony/humor might be lost on the general public.
Seriously, dad, I can't wait to play soccer with you. Mom took me running a lot when I was a little kid, so I'm used to getting lots of exercise. I've been practicing my moves: mostly the "he's a a maniac, maniac on [mom's bladder]" dance. It's a little cramped in here, you know?

I can't wait for everything you and mom can teach me, like juggling. Mom is pretty sure you still have a couple tricks up your sleeve and thinks I have some pretty big shoes to fill. Sometimes she gets a little frustrated with you and mutters words I shouldn't repeat; usually it's when you put your dirty clothes in my crib, leave the water bottle filling for 20+ minutes, or don't listen to what she's saying to you. All-in-all, though, mom gives you high marks. Oh, and don't worry, dad, you're secret is safe with me: I won't tell mom that you actually know how to cook or change diapers. Shhh. It's probably best to let her show me (or keep showing you) a couple things. I know you'll teach me to be a good person who is kind and loving, just like you. And I hope I'm calm and even tempered just like you -- sometimes mom gets a little wacky. You calm her down, so hopefully I'll have the same affect.

And I know you love my big brother and sister a lot. They seem like a lot of fun and like they can also teach me really cool things -- like eating off the floor and catching bugs. (or is it eating bugs off the floor?). Whatever. I hope Zsa Zsa teaches me how to play ping pong soccer. [Speaking of soccer, can we all watch the World Cup together?] I know it's going to be a big adjustment to have me around, too. But I promise I can be fun, too. I don't have a tail, but I might pee on you, I can learn to fetch, and I'll talk a lot more (so you guys don't have such one-sided conversations with your furry, 4-legged kids).

You're the best dad ever! thanks for making me... I know it was a lot of work, I mean, fun. I already love you with all of my 166 BPM little hummingbird heart.

Your wingman in training,