Don’t Forget to Kiss Daddy, Too

A Morning with My Two Favorite People

Dec 22, 2025

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I write letters to my son, Myles, sharing my journey as a first-time dad and spreading the love I didn't experience myself. If you’ve been here before — thank you for coming back. If you’re new here, here are some good places to start.

Dear Myles,

After breakfast, when your mother buckles you into your car seat and we pray together for safe travels, she kisses you goodbye.

And before she closes the car door and walks back up the stairs, you never forget to remind her: “kiss daddy, too.”

I remember the first time you said it. It reminds me how, in the spirit of the mornings and in the flow of life, we so easily can forget the love that brought us here.

She walks over and kisses me, and I smile.

In the spirit of the morning, brushing teeth, washing faces, and eating breakfast, we sometimes barely remember to say good morning to each other. But you remind us to slow down and remember the love that brought us here, the love that sits in the car seat, the love that wakes us up early even on weekends, the love that keeps us going, the love we prayed for.

Lately, I’ve been taking the mornings slow and leaning in. Waking a little extra early to make sure breakfast is done so you and I can eat together. You run into the kitchen every morning asking what’s for breakfast like you don’t already know it’s overnight oats and half a fried egg.

I marvel at your skin, the way the morning light ducks under the blinds to touch your face, your smile, your teeth, how you hold your blue fork to bring it to your mouth, steadying the food on it like little men on tightropes, how you shape your lips to say daddy like it’s your favorite word on the planet. I sit in gratitude, watching you eat overnight oats and half a fried egg as if this kitchen deserves a Michelin all on it’s own. “It’s sooooo good, Daddy,” you say. And I think to myself that if God never did anything else, he gave me everything, all in every morning—time with the two people I love the most.

So in the spirit of the morning, after you get tucked in your car seat, and we pray for traveling mercies and she kisses you goodbye, she pauses a little just to hear you yell, “Kiss Daddy, too.” And when she walks over to my side, I smile because I know that there are two people on the planet who will never stop loving me. Thank you for being one of them.

I said it last year and I say it again: it’s hard when your mother asks me what I want for Christmas, because, truly, what do you get a man who truly has everything? Because how can you simply beat two kisses a day?

There is no clever way to say this. Maybe because there is something beautiful in the simple truth, like rocks are hard, water is wet, and you—you are the gift that keeps on giving.

Thank you for reminding us of the love that brought us here.