Father’s Day is next weekend, and I’ve been reflecting on what it’s meant to me to watch my husband’s evolution from that guy i love…to the dad in the house. From day one, he was fiercely protective and hands-on— elevating the act of changing diapers and swaddling to an art form. Music was everywhere, always, and my kids have been fed a steady diet of ’80s pop, ’70s prog rock, ’60s soul, and lots of Broadway. And wherever a joke can be inserted, it is. Lots of quick wit, lots of sarcasm, both of which my son is trying on for size now that he’s officially a teenager— a mini version of his father. Our dinners are full of giggles, and if your joke can make someone spit out their drink, it’s a good day.