My J

You, kid, challenge me to keep up. You're my sporty child, my athlete. Baseball games and football practice are unexpected additions to my schedule that I never imagined becoming a part of my routine. It's made my life exciting. It has stretched me and forced me to grow. And I'm a bit out of breath at times.

Seeing you play (and you play hard) is a joy beyond measure. Like when you were playing shortstop and scooped up a ground ball before it rolled out of the infield, then you ran all the way to first base to tag the batter out instead of throwing it. I was so impressed that you made it there before the runner - covering twice the distance in a shorter amount of time.

You're strong. You're fast. You're coordinated. You're stylish. You're brave. And you can dance.

I was none of those things when I was your age. So I have a bit of a learning curve in learning to be your dad, the kind of father you deserve. I'm lucky you're so easy going. You are forgiving of my mistakes. You don't mind when I throw a football and it strays wildly off target; you still run to retrieve it. You are also easy to please. I know it doesn't take much. A hug, a high five, Orange Crush cake that you've been looking forward to all year since you first found it at the grocery store last Christmas. Or getting the perfect gift for your birthday - the long board your really wanted.

There are a few things I want you to know. You will always have my support. I will always be on your side, cheering for your team. I will always encourage you to try something new. And I will always be amazed by what you can and will accomplish.

My favorite days are those when your laughter fills the air, when you return to me drenched from sweat, and when your eyes light up with happiness. Today, I could achieve that by giving you a skate board and feeding you cake. Happy birthday kid, my J-Funk. My JJ.