On the morning you were born.

I stopped breathing when you silently entered the world. Seriously, I literally stopped breathing. I probably would have fainted from lack of oxygen if the midwife hadn't sensed my concern and said, "Everything is ok, dad." You took your first breath and let out the sweetest little cry. I was able to breathe again and fell completely in love with you. You know what happened next? You pooped all over your mother.

Now, lil' man. I don't want you to think that I love the lil' lady more than I love you. Because, I don't. But I'd be lying if I told you that I love you equally. Because, I don't. All I can say is, I love both of you unlike I love anything else in this world.

Oh lil' lady. Only five months old and so many "firsts" already. Your first smile melted my heart. Your first laugh filled me ... No. Made my life burst with joy. This life that seems to move forward at peregrine falcon speed. I want it to slow down! But I'm also anxiously awaiting the next batch of "firsts." God! What are you going to choose for your first word? That first awkward step, falling into my arms. The first time you ride on my shoulders. The first time your face is covered with ice cream. Your first lobster. So many "firsts" for us to experience together.

Trust me! I'm not in a hurry. I just can't stop thinking about what these experiences will bring. In fact, there is one first I just can't stop thinking about. Our first father/daughter dance. Whoa!! I know this isn't going to happen for a long, long, long time. And I'm really not sure why I'm always thinking about this. The only explanation I can think of is, well... the incredibly delighted reaction you have every night when I hold you in my arms, crank up the  "songs to raise your kids to" playlist, and sing and dance around the kitchen.

For some strange reason, I don't think you'll be as delighted with my moves, voice, and inability to remember lyrics at our first father/daughter dance. And that's ok. But, just so you know .... I'm gonna leave everything I've got on that mother flippin' dance floor! I'm gonna belt out improperly timed lyrics to Lean on Me, Son of a Preacher Man, and Maybe I'm Amazed. I'm gonna bust out the most ridiculous air guitar when Sweet Child O Mine is played. I'm gonna dance like... like I think I know how to dance. And I'm gonna do it all night long.

Maybe you'll think that I'm just trying to embarrass you. But, I hope not. I hope that you'll be as delighted to dance with me then, as you are now. I hope that you feel like the luckiest girl on earth. I hope all the mothers watching, elbow their husbands in the gut and whisper, "Why can't you be that kind of dad?" I hope that the last song played is Stairway to Heaven, well.. because its the longest slow song I can think of... and I want this moment to last as long as possible. But most importantly. I hope that you think, what you'll hopefully always think, "Yeah! I have the best fucking dad in the world."