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To the dads

It never really quite hits that you’re the mom and dad like when a massive storm hits. Instead of running to your parents’ room, you’re the one running upstairs to make sure the kids aren’t too close to the window. You’re the one bringing them down for good measure.

In the wake of it all, you can’t help but think of the countless nights spent on the floor in mom & dad’s room because the desert thunderstorms, yikes. At least for a scaredy cat like me, anyway.

I did it. Often. I was terrified of storms and yet somehow, here I am, the grown up responsible for the babies. Despite being nearly asleep even through a great playoff basketball game, the parent adrenaline kicks in and you’re awake because the little darlings need you.

Funny the way things go full circle.

Thanks for letting me bunk in your room, dad.

Happy Father’s Day to my favorite dads. To my husband, dad and brother, you rock. Love you guys.

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