Fathers Day was a quiet affair at our place on sunday. Tim woke to Ella jumping on him in bed as she excitedly screeched "Happy Father's Day!", something we had been practicing saying for the last two days. She was most proud of herself for not only remembering that phrase, but also for sleeping through the night (we have been having some major sleep problems lately, but that's another story).
I cooked breakfast, consisting of some locally cured bacon and the biggest pancakes you ever saw. We laughed that they reminded us of deep dish pizza's we ate in Chicago. I'm not quite sure what happened to them or why they were so huge but Tim liked them none the less.
The rest of the day was spent playing in the backyard. Ella was riding her bike so Tim decided he would get his mountain bike out and join her. It was hilarious watching them ride together and watch Tim try to teach her how to do wheelies and other tricks.
Watching Tim playing with our babies makes me unbelievably happy. I never thought I could say that I loved him more than the day we got married, until I saw him hold his children for the very first time.
Happy Fathers Day.
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