Dad and Me

By Donna Christensen

My daddy is my fav’rite pal, And I help him ev’ry day. It’s plain to see I want to be Like him in ev’ry way. (Children’s Songbook, page 211.)

My daddy and I are the very best friends.

He likes to call me his good buddy.

We always go fishing

And swim in the creek,

And hunt snakes, then go home very muddy.

When Mom says, “You’re dirty—you can’t come inside,”

My dad looks at me, and he grins.

We hook up the hose,

Then we turn on the tap—

And the first one who’s clean is who wins.

All sopping and drippy, we lie on the porch

Until we’ve been dried by the sun,

Then fold up the lawn chairs

And sneak in the back,

Have a snack, and make plans for more fun.

Today is the day that the lawn must be mowed

’Cause Grandpa and Grandma are coming.

We snap on the grass bag,

Then yank on the cord,

And the neat old machine starts a-humming.

At first Daddy tells me to just sit and watch,

While he does the hard work of mowing.

But soon he winks at me,

And he calls me to help,

’Cause, he says, he can see I’ve been growing.

Last Saturday morning, my dad said, “Good buddy,

Just cast your eyes out in the yard.

That great big old tree there

Is calling to me—

Building tree houses isn’t too hard!”

I got my red wagon, and Dad got some tools:

Two hammers, two saws, and some nails.

We went to the shed, where

The dogs are all fed,

And picked out some planks and some rails.

We measured and sawed for an hour or two

(The ground was soon covered with dust).

I climbed to the top while

Dad handed things up

(He knew I was one he could trust).

When the tree house was done and our workplace was clear,

We entered our mansion to rest.

Mom brought us some cookies

And two cups of milk.

Dad chortled, “Aren’t these times the best!”

Last spring when the winds started whipping and blowing,

My dad said, “The time is just right

To get some wood

And some paper and string

And to build a fantabulous kite!”

We found a big field with no wires or trees.

We ran till the kite was in flight.

Up into the blue

With the birdies it flew

Till it almost soared clear out of sight.

At night, after Dad has been working all day

And I’m tuckered out just from playing,

We sit and read books or

Tell stories and talk,

Then we kneel with the fam’ly for praying.

He sits by my bed, and he tousles my head;

He wishes me happiest dreaming.

As I go to sleep,

Through half-closed eyes I peep,

And I see my dad’s kind face is beaming.

I’m my daddy’s buddy, his helper, his friend;

I guess you could call us a pair.

I cannot believe that

A child could find

Any niftier dad anywhere!

Illustrated by Dick Brown