I confess there are times when I’ve thought that the dads got the better gig. Especially with three sons. They have so much more in common. The pride taken in a loud, long burp and such, you know. But if I were the dad, I’ve realized, I’d have to do all kinds of things that are kind-of-not-really my thing. Like this morning, when Dad had to remove a tick from Son’s ear. Definitely not my thing.

In this house of men, where so much is foreign to me and my girlness, I’ve appreciated the father Lyndon is to our boys. He’s provided them with an amazing childhood, full of space and dirt and nature and freedom. They don’t know it yet, but one day they will look back and realize what a gift their father has given them.

Happy Father’s Day, Lyndon. I love you!

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