What a summer we had! Maybe a month of two before the season started my wife and I sat down and planned (as much as possible with a three-year-old) what we wanted to do this summer. Of course, most of it involved Preston and making memories for him.

Which in turn reminded me of my summers. A decent part of my adolescence was spend living in Italy with my father being stationed there for the U.S. Army. Many memories were made there but the most memorable were my summers. My dad would take a month off and take me, my friends and eventually my sister-everywhere. There is a photo ingrained in my mind that I’m sure is somewhere at my mother’s house, its of me and my friends eating hamburgers on the balcony of our apartment. We all have the biggest smiles on our faces and the biggest burgers in our hands.

Perfection.

Beaches, trips exploring the country, sleep overs, the longest days playing outside until the sun would wave goodbye. Summers were the best. Orchestrated by the maestro himself: my dad.

You can find this in the Manual in chapter 159: May My Son Love Me The Way I Will Always Love My Dad