daddy's girls

I was thinking about this the other day, how I wouldn't necessarily call myself a daddy's girl. But then I thought about how he always went in the ocean with me, how he showed up at every single one of my softball games, how he comforted me after my first and only fender bender (day 1 of my senior year of high school), how he assured me I had no need to worry about my future, and how when a random lady was lecturing me on why I should marry rich, he said, "Money helps, but it's not everything. Just make sure your marry the right man." I love him for all of that and more. So, although I may not quite be a "daddy's girl," I'm most definitely the luckiest daughter to have him. This is how we celebrated Father's Day:

[Dining at Goldfish Oyster Bar & Restaurant: oysters, Pinotage, green salad]

[roasted branzino (split with my mom), apple pie a la mode, bread pudding]

 [Brunch-ing at Mercadito with the family (minus my brother, he was working) and our cousins]

 [Pacifico, guacamole, tacos al estilo baja (crispy beer battered mahi mahi, mexican style coleslaw, chipotle aioli)]

[strolling through an East Village farmers market]

[watching my talented cousins perform in their band]

[taking my grandfather out for Friendly's ice cream sundaes]