Fathers Day- My Dad

Dad on the dairy.

Summer nights in Arizona were made for children.  The heat of the day cooled and we played outside way past sundown.  It was an age of innocence without fenced yards, where neighbors watched out for each other.
It was on one of those nights that I played with my sisters and friends in our front yard.  Our tan legs raced around in a game of tag, while the adults sat inside, talking and drinking cold bottles of Pepsi.  In our game, one girl ran around the side of the house, then raced back.  "There's ghosts back there!"  Our hearts pounded at the very thought.  Following her, we peaked around the house into the back yard.  Large, white sheets hung on the clothesline, swaying in the gentle breeze.  Their movement was just enough to set our imaginations afire.  We squealed and ran back to the front.
The next several minutes were spent daring each other to go look again.  On our last foray into terror, we somewhat boldly peered past the side of the house.
"Waaaaaa!!" One of the sheets had grown arms and was running at us.
Screaming as only little girls can do, we rushed back around the house and into the front yard.  Adult laughter could be heard from the open windows.  Behind our frightened group, my dad followed, a sheet draped over one arm, his smile from ear to ear.
My dad was always playful. Whether it was learning to play jacks with us, or watching 'Days of Our Lives' by our side during the year he was out of work.  He loves to laugh and loves to make us laugh.
Dad works hard. He is kind and thoughtful.  I don't remember a single meal when he didn't compliment my mom.  He puts his family first, sacrificing so much for us over the years.  He is a gospel scholar with an amazing testimony.
Of all the blessings in my life, I count him as one of the greatest ones.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.