Most mornings he was up and off to work before the sun came up. I’d sometimes wake early just to get a quick hair tousle before he’d spring out the door. Often whistling. Head still wet from his shower. Pocket comb intact, back right side.
Dad had rotating days off. If Monday last week, then Tuesday this week. Wednesday the week after. Unless he got a call: a last minute plea when shorthanded. Pay for time and a half. An offer he could rarely refuse.
The call must not have come in that day. Because he was home with pre-school me. My older sister was gone. Mom was working as a part-time secretary at the church. The new sneakers were red canvas low-cuts with a white rubber cap toe. Bought at TG&Y where my grandma worked in the shoe department. We sat on my parents’ bed all morning. He with a steady hand and that reassuring whistle. Showing me over and over again. Until I finally got it right. Loop with both ends, wrap it around, then pull. A classic Bunny Ear.
Just another morning spent with the world’s best dad. A memory that makes me smile every time I tie one on.
Thank you Pop and Happy Father’s Day.