A toast to Dads worldwide.

Whether he is Dad, Pop, Daddy or the Southern “Deddy”, here’s to you for putting up with children who are at times lovable and at other times unbearable.

Here’s to teaching us how to catch a baseball with two hands instead of our teeth. Here’s to admitting that yes, your child throws the ball way too hard for any more catches in the back yard. Here’s to playing catch in the first place.

Here’s to cheering us on the baseball diamond not only when we get the big hit but for when we strike out. Here’s to you for not acting like a lunatic father, dog-cussing umpires and arguing over strike calls at a 6-year-olds’ baseball game. (For those fathers who do act like on-field idiots, quit reading, this is not for you.)

Here’s to you for reminding us when we fall off our bikes and skid down the pavement on our forearms that pain is part of life and to “rub some dirt on it.” It’s true that what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger and while maybe we didn’t recognize it at the time, we now know that all you were trying to do was make us tougher.

Here’s to the patience you showed on those lengthy rides for vacation. Here’s to somehow refraining from actually pulling over to the side of the road to teach us a lesson. Here’s to handing down the greatest answer on earth to a child’s question are we there yet? “Getting closer every minute,” you’d say, knowing that it drives the kids crazier than the kids are driving you crazy.

Here’s to helping us survive high school when every puberty-stricken boy or girl turns into an idiot if only for a few years.

Here’s to you for helping us through college and the visits you made to see us, even if the hurt intensified as we saw you drive away.

Here’s to always providing a safety net for when things get so bad there is no one else to turn to.

Cherish today, kids, if you are fortunate enough to still have your Dad around.

If things aren’t good, what a better time to make amends. Life is too short for petty nonsense to spoil family.

End every conversation with I love you because, sadly, the day will come when it becomes the last conversation you have.

Here’s to you just being you — the cheerleader and the teacher, the friend and the wise man, the coach and the disciplinarian.

This one’s for you Pop. Salut!