My dad is on the roof

So my dad has been on the roof for like most of my life, it seems, anyway.

(I’ll be two next month. BTW: I like monster trucks, trains, and anything about the alphabet.)

When I come home from camp or my friend’s house or some errand like eating cheese or watch trucks or something, I always look up and say ‘Dada!’

He’ll be there.

(He’s kinda like Thomas, on time and really reliable.)

I’ve played with my babysitter Tara, I’ve played with my friends Carter, Chase, Julie, and Liam.

I’ve spent time in my swing. I’ve chased my sister around.

And still, he’s up there. I’m not sure what’s up there, but it looks pretty cool.

I’ve even talked with my dad through the window. He’s talked back with me, too.

When I walk past other roofs with other dads working on them, I say ‘Dada,’ too. I don’t want them to feel like their kids aren’t cheering them on or anything.

So, I think I’d like to get myself a roof that Mommy would let me go on.

But, I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do up there. Maybe we could build another roof on top or run monster trucks down the side? I’m sure my Dad will know what to do.