What a Dad and ‘Real Man’ Means To Me

by

I will never forget the day when I was four (or maybe five?) and I was crying on the ground with a scraped knee and my legs in pain, and thinking with my feeble brain “that’s it, I will never play outside ever again”, when suddenly a silhouette shadowed the blazing summer Sun and scooped me off in its protective arms, taking me back inside the house, where everything was cozy and safe, to patch up my knee with band aids and gauze.