He taught me to enjoy

The crunchy flakiness of pretzels,

the squishy insides of bratwurst,

The moistness and texture of Bundt cake.

He gave me the power to sneeze

            Very

                  Very

                        Loud.

He made me half and half,

not only one culture and heritage

The first thing I saw was his face,

and even at a very young age I could see that he needed

a long nap.

The first thing I touched was his large fingers

The first thing I heard were his smooth, rhythmic lullabies

that he learned from his father.

Most of the senses I learned from him

He made me appreciate classical music,

When all my pals just yawned at it.

But he has learned from me too.

He now watches Star Wars,

and thoroughly immerses himself into the movies

Even though up until five years ago,

he couldn’t stand the shooting and explosions.

When he wants to make a point,

He makes it with a stern face,

But always leaves room at the end for an ironic remark.

And when he does,

I smile a big toothy grin,

Knowing I have passed on my personality,

Attitude,

Generation,

To my father.