Rose is Rose by Don Wimmer and Pat Brady for May 24, 2024

❤️

there’s no Dad like a Girl Dad

My Dad was in WWII. He was a man’s man. He contracted malaria while in the South Pacific and was hospitalized. He was taught how to knit socks for the troops. Fast forward to me at 8 yrs old and him teaching me. I loved it so he even took a class to learn more so he could teach me. Course, he did teach me how to work on cars as well. Loved my Dad!!! I will visit him at The Veteran’s Cemetery on Monday.

Takes a REAL man…

Jimbo would have made a great girl dad.

Treated my daughter well (I think). Of course, I used the opportunity to indulge her in game consoles, laptops and iphones that I enjoyed, as well.

As long as Mimi is happy, Daddy and Uncle Jimbo are happy.

Of course…..

When you see a guy like a linebacker, in a tiara and tutu for tea with his pre school daughter, you realize that there are. ❤

When Corky first saw the little pink blanket she was wrapped in he knew he must put aside all things masculine for a season!

My daughter called me yesterday. We spent about a half hour on the phone, mostly with her reminiscing about why she feels so lucky to have had me as a dad.

{;^D)>

[SNIFF !!]

It’s International Tiara Day! Celebrate responsibly.

“Thoughtful” is an excellent way to describe Jimbo Gumbo.

My father had only daughters. I went into his profession (ok, he met mom in class and my middle sister went into same profession for awhile also). Being oldest I was the one who would help him paint, assemble things, garden, etc.

My husband grew up in a family with a sister – girls did girl things, boys did boy things. He was shocked I knew how to use hand and electric tools and that I knew more about cars then he did (though did not know much).

When we lived in our apartment we did not have any storage beyond a basic medicine cabinet. We bought a small plastic cabinet to hang on the wall and never were getting around to putting it up. One day I was home and decided to hang it up. I did so. He came home and looked at it. “Did you use mollys?” “No.” “How did you level it?” “I sat it along the top edge of the tiling – helps hold it up and I presumed was level.” “Uh huh. It will never stay up.” When moved out about 7 years later we had to leave it – it would not come off the wall.