M.I.A.

To the man who stole the three oldest away early this morning and still hasn't returned, who taught Mildred how to make cheesy scrambled eggs on the stovetop and fruit shakes in the blender all by herself so I find one lone little girl busily whipping up breakfast, who is blind to messes but who cleaned the whole house squeaky-clean for his hospital-bound wife who can't help but notice them, to the man who indulges and disciplines and gives, who is often more tender and patient than I am, who is not perfect but who fills the role of Papa so well, Happy Father's Day.

I love you, and your Hope, Delight, Songbird, and Littlest Pip do, too.