Remembering Dad
When I was:
Four years old: My daddy can do anything.
Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
Six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.
Eight years old: My dad doesn’t know exactly everything.
Ten years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up,
things were sure different.
Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn’t know
anything about that. He is too old to remember his
childhood.
Fourteen years old: Don’t pay any attention to my dad. He is
so old-fashioned.
Twenty-one years old: Him? My Lord, he’s hopelessly out of
date.
Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he
should, because he has been around so long.
Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks.
After all, he’s had a lot of experience.
Thirty-five years old: I’m not doing a single thing until I
talk to Dad.
Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He
was so wise.
Fifty years old: I’d give anything if Dad were here now so I
could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn’t appreciate