Being a father means at 4pm you realize you've worn the same shirt since yesterday,
Being a father means breakfast is a cold slice of pizza, no time for a tray,
It's a life of small victories, a stain that tells a story of play,
And the joy in a baby's chuckle, as you watch them grow each day.
Being a father means board books scattered and blocks on the floor,
Whispered lullabies at midnight, and tiptoes past the nursery door,
It's a balance of care and learning, a touch both gentle and sure,
With each smile, a heart swells, love's presence ever pure.
Being a father is to delight in the babble that fills the air,
It’s to cherish the moments, be present, always there,
It’s to console the first teardrops, to cheer the first stand,
And to hold a tiny hand within your own, a trust so grand.
Being a father means your old life sheds away, day by day,
As you embrace this new journey in every single way,
It's the quiet strength found in each new challenge you face,
For now, in this little one's life, you've found your rightful place.
I love you Aria.
Papa.
