Over the years, you've thoroughly trained me in the art of great pizza. I can spot the best and worst dollar slice places from a mile away (it's a skill I take pride in). You taught me all the things dads are supposed to teach their daughters before they grow up: how to drive an F350, how to be a great passenger on the back of a Harley (but to "never, EVER get on the back of a motorcycle with a boy"--and similarly never trust a guy that rides crotch rockets--or guys in general). You still let me drive the golf cart, even after a series of unfortunate dings at the ripe age of eight (gotta learn somewhere right?). And best of all, you accepted my "I love you more than pizza" card from my poetic kindergarten days. I love you daddy! Happy father's day!