When fathers wax sentimental about their “children”

On Hadley’s birthday, she slept late (my gift) and I made her favorite breakfast: oatmeal cookie pancakes (her gift).


As we were piling into the car afterward to go to Grandma’s, Jamie commented,

“I just want to warn you about something.”

“Oh no. What?”

“I may be a little emotional today.”

“Why?”

“Wellllllll, first my little girl is turning five.”

“Yeah right, whatever. What’s the real reason?”

“My back-up pumpkin plant is running into my main one. I will have to kill it today.”

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