When I was a kid, I used to hate my dad. Sometimes I wished I could change him with another (sporting) dad around the neighbourhood. I did not like him much because he used to conquer me and control me and instruct me of what I should do and what I shouldn’t.

I studied the surroundings and most of dads around were less strict than mine.

Then when I grew up, I could learn the beautiful thing behind all those pain. My dad made me saved. He prevented me from straying. Hence, I was on the right track. Back then, I saw some of my friends dropped out school, several had become juvenile offenders while a few were admitted to rehab.

Those ‘unlucky’ persons came from various families but the very similar thing they all shared was: I used to adore their (sporting) dads which I once wished to have mine replaced.

And now, when I have grown up and become a man, I wish to have more time with my dad since we have been very great friends then. I am so fortunate to have him and I will not substitute him with anything of course. He is my THE only dad. And suddenly Paul Peterson sings (in my mind) to me:-

“He isn’t much in the eyes of the world, he’ll never make history.. He isn’t much in the eyes of the world, but he is the world to me..”

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