Dad. He's the best . . . until he accidentally takes your dress up box of vintage Holt Renfrew clothes to the Sally Anne. Here are some of our favorite memories. This particular post should be called Two Cents in 2-3 paragraphs.
ZE: "It's a toss up between visiting Lumberland on Saturdays then hitting the Harvey's drive through - or the time we were in Zimbabwe and my dad bartered his sneakers and callously threw in my Le Clic camera in exchange for a pair of carved ebony rhinoceros."
LC: "I see my dad so often that new memories are made all the time. Seeing him with my dog Marshall (whom he adores) always gives my heart a squeeze."
HM: "Too many to mention and many still being made but whenever I smell sawdust, I think of my dad at home in his workshop, which makes trips to Home Depot and Rona much more enjoyable."
HP: "My favourite memories of Dad involve road trips and his sing song "...almost hoooommmmee!" and then "home again home again, jiggity jog" as we pulled into the driveway (I was usually teetering on the edge of slumber by that time). I also remember the day he taught me to ride a bike - running behind me holding the seat and telling me I was doing great - I never knew he had let go until after I stopped at the end of my glorious dash to a new independence, looked back, and saw him smile..."