Pa.
A short name, yes. But contained within those two letters are years of wonderment and glorious fatherdom. Yes, it is Father's Day, and yes, that gives me every right to tell you how amazing mine is.
When I detached my skis in the middle of some obscure wooded regions of Vail, Colorado, he did not complain. Nay - he put me on top of his own skis and within the hour, they were found.
When no one knew if we were really going to make it to Hawaii the next year, He got our hopes up. Ma: "Rick, don't get their hopes up." Pa: "We are GOIN'!" Ma: (shakes head) Childrens: (laugh hysterically)
When Halloween rolled around three years ago, he passed as a genuine harley davidson biker. Only to be beaten by some foe who decided to wear one of those pre-made Roger Rabbit outfits.
When our love for dinosaurs and bones could not be satiated, he took us fossil hunting all over the States - and we've shark teeth in every cupboard to prove it.
When every other family we know calls their parents Mom and Dad, he let us call him Pa.
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