I love my dad.

He's a quiet man, a man of few words. He isn't always the best at showing emotion. But one thing I know about him, is that he is good. And I've never doubted his love for me.

The thing about my dad that people don't know, is he is brilliant. The man has a Master's in organic chemistry. He is a hard worker, and has always provided for us. He is also hilarious. No, he's not going to be the center of attention at a party (can you tell I get my personality from him?) but there is so much more to him than that. He's pretty cool.

When I was little, I used to tell him, "You're pretty, Daddy." I remember saying it, and not realizing that men aren't pretty, but handsome. Of course, I suppose in my little girl mind that was the highest compliment I probably could have paid him.

He called (and still calls) me Buggy. Which, in turn, led to a slew of variations on that nick name by my sister Melissa, who now calls me "Sto." How you get from Bug to Sto, is a loooong story. Just go with it, ok?

He also used to say good night to me by saying, "I love you, Butter Bean." And then I would respond, "I love you, Butter Dad." Then, "I love you, Butter Buggy," and "I love you, Butter Daddy." This was something that continued probably even into high school, until, I'm sad to say, I decided I was much too old for. I think that when I told him that, he was sad.

I haven't always been the best daughter to my dad. There are a lot of things about my attitude through the years that I wish I could take back. He still loves me, and even if he isn't the most overt at showing it, I don't doubt it.

That's what I love about my parents. Even when I'm most unloving, they love me. Unconditionally. I feel so blessed.