While think of my dad, I think of MY dad. I don't really think about fatherhood, per se. Nor do I really think about my being a dad. I just hunk about my dad.

My dad has shaped my world:

I see things differently because of my dad. I look at the tops of mountains differently.

I listen to people whistle, trying to discern if there is a coded message in the short and long tweets being whistled (-.-. --.- repeat. Or, long short long short long long short long, I think).

I smell thinks differently, remembering comments he's made while walking by department store perfume counters.

I think he's affected my sense of flavor. At least every time I have black licorice (which I try never to do on purpose), I think of him.

But more than that, I watched and learned about how to be a caring son by the way he interacted with my grandpa.

I took note about how he loved my mother, with affection, care, companionship, all the way through. I can only hope to do the same.

I learned how to reason like a dad. To be firm, to choose battles wisely, and to know when to let some things slide a bit.

There is much more. But I know that my world is a different place, a more organized, more caring, more selfless, more steady place because of my dad.

My dad is more than the "best dad in the world" whatever that objective measuring stick might be. I'm looking to have a competition against other dads.

My dad is the best man in my world.