I was making a card for my Dad today, trying to get it done before the mailman stopped by.
Yeah, I know, kinda last minute, but that's the old man's style too.
I was thinking about a moment in my childhood when I felt completely safe and loved, and it was when my Dad would tuck our feet in on a cold New Hampshire night.
There was something soothing about having you feet bundled up in your blankets, even though you would move two minutes later and free them.
I find myself tucking Oskar's feet in at night, even when its not that cold.
I have a lot to be thankful as a Dad myself. Two beautiful little boys and an amazing wife. Or maybe its the other way around...
How did I get to be so lucky?
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