Sunday AM I awoke early and knew I wasn't going to get back to sleep. So, I did the most logical, Sunday morning sensible thing I could think of, I got on the computer and read blogs. "Such organized genius you sigh." I know you're all thinking , "This is why she is so calm, cool and collected when she arrives 30 minutes early for 9:00AM church with those handsome, well groomed sons of hers."
Alas, I must burst the awe bubble. It's all Adorable Hubby.
At 8:05 a nude, slightly wet, but perfectly quaffed number 6 came quietly down the stairs and stood shivering by me. "Ah, did Daddy shower you and comb your hair?" I asked pulling his shivering body against my fuzzy bathrobe for a hug.
"Yes, and he says you should get me dressed." He mumbled, from the depths of warm fuzz.
Holding hands we walked upstairs, I turned the corner and saw a sight that warms the cockles of every church going woman's heart.
A freshly showered Daddy, sitting on the down toilet seat, carefully combing the hair of his freshly showered, towel wrapped son.
I'm a big boob, and pre-menstrual this week, but I cried and thought of good fathers everywhere.
Too my friend Matt who's Daddy passed away Saturday, hugs and prayers are with you.
May the Great Daddy of us all help us to forgive the inadequacies, delight in the efforts and see His nature in Dads everywhere.