When the baby was born, my cousin Regina generously passed on some baby clothes for him to wear, since we were woefully unprepared in that department. I was very grateful for this wardrobe, although, my husband had one quibble with it. The clothes were decidedly pro-Mommy:
Not that Steve was anti-Mommy, but he just felt a little bit left out. So, for Christmas, "the baby" (i.e. me) bought "himself" (i.e. the dad) a onesie that proudly declared the existence of and approval of Daddy:
That's true. No problem. But then things started to get a little bit more aggressive:
Daddy's ALL-STAR? Wow, that happened quickly. (Also, interesting how the baby gets #36. I wonder if it was retired in honor of all babies, sort of like #42 was for Jackie Robinson.)
So, to sum up: according to my son's wardrobe, Daddy is: cute; loving; the owner of a successful team that represents at the All-Star game; awesome. Mommy is: in possession of a big guy.
That's fine, Daddy. Your day is coming up, after all, anyway. I suppose you are pretty awesome. Happy Fathers Day from the big smiling dino.