My Family: Papi

  I'm not really sure how we started calling my father Papi, but it just happened. I guess one day my sister and I woke up-- 'Daddy is no longer Daddy; he is Papi.' This is true. Most people after meeting him agree with us, it is not 'Father' or 'Daddy', yet Papi.

   My father is kind, intelligent, a planner, a good sportsman and most of all- he loves me. I feel very comfortable talking to him about things that other girls my age would never talk to their dads about: dating, religion. I love having him come out and visit me in Starkville. It's like having a friend come and visit. He is relaxed on what I do in my social life, as long as it doesn't affect my academic or career life. I respect that, but I hardly feel like I have a social life with all the studying I do.

 

 

Every once in a while out of the blue he will send me a small care package. Inside is a good mix of practical and luxury items: socks, toothpaste, but also my favorite tea from Atlanta or a new book.

 

He's a wonderful man and I adore him greatly. I always have.

 

 

#macyprobs