Dear Dad,

Happy Father's Day. I know, I know, the BBQ tool set was enough to keep you happy all summer, but I wanted to write you this letter to tell you just what I think of you - even if you do hate getting all mushy.

Truth be told, Dad, you're the reason I turned out so strong. When I was just a kid you taught me the importance of running around in the dirt, and how the number of my bruises can be used to measure the success of a summer day. You taught me that a job worth doing is worth doing well ("Measure Twice. Cut Once."). And well, you made me feel capable, like I could tackle anything that came my way. That, I think, has been your most valueable gift to me.

You are a man of few words - even saying "I love you" makes you squirm. You're not the guy to talk to about the latest gossip, or whine about a jerk I recently went out with. No, you're the one I turn to when my feelings have no words, when what I need more than anything is that twinkle in your eye that promises, "Everything is going to be O.K." When I go out into that big, scary world, I am able to embrace it instead of running away because I know that I have you to protect me. You make me feel safe. And I just wanted to say thanks.

Thanks for turning me into the woman that I am today. Thanks for telling me to push, to try, and to work hard for the things I want - because I deserve them. Thanks for being my fellow Barbie Doll torturer, my always-available action movie date, my cheerleading spotter (the pom poms look great), and my friend.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you. Now, go grill me a cheesburger.