I may not have been a boy, but....

He taught me to shingle and to hang rain gutters.

Much to my neighbor's dismay as he is constantly trying to talk me off a ladder. As if. (huff!)

He taught me to take pictures and to develop them.

Much to my dismay, no matter how I promised I wouldn't get antsy stuck in that dark room, I always did. I started too young and have positively no memory of how to develop photos now, but he did teach me.

He taught me how to ride a bike, steal a basketball (during a dribble), and to stop on a dime.

Literally. He put a dime on the street and made me practice stopping ON IT. In his truck that didn't have power anything. (He still drives it.)

He taught me that I never want a dog. He does, but he made sure I knew how much work they are and I won't be fooled by any cute furry faces. I won't. Much to the dismay of my chilren.

H taught me every landmark between Liberal, Kansas and Stone Wall, Colorado.

Be still my heart, those ladybugs that positively covered the bushes on the rim of that volcano that you were finally talked into stopping at. What was it called again?

Thanks, Dad, for everything.

Especially for the father of my children, which you so kindly pointed out tonight, that I only know because of you.