When I was very little my bedroom was at the top of a long staircase my parent’s room was at the bottom.
As the story goes every night for about a week, I’d wake up, stand at the top of the staircase saying “I’m going to throw up”.
One night, fed up with constantly being woken up my mom screams from her bed “THEN THROW UP!!!”
Which I do…. Like a towheaded Regan from the Exorcist.
From the top of the stairs.
All over the stairs,
All over myself…
Upon hearing this, my dad bolts out of bed, runs BAREFOOT through my vomit!!! Hoists my sticky little body over his shoulder (I’m sure he wasn’t wearing a shirt) just to carry me down, clean me up & take care of me.
Best. Dad. Ever.
(For a million other reasons too).
Love you Dad.
Happy Father’s Day.