My dad told me he wanted a very specific Father's Day gift: something that would help him maintain optimal home comfort.

So I got him a sweater, and he said, 'Perfect! Now I can finally turn the thermostat down even lower without anyone complaining.'

My dad always said his greatest talent was being able to fix anything around the house.

And while he did master everything from leaky faucets to wobbly chairs, his real superpower was always knowing how to fix a bad day, usually with a groan-worthy dad joke and a hug that somehow glued everything back together.

My dad said for Father's Day, he just wanted one thing.

"An entire afternoon in the garage," he mumbled, "without anyone asking where the spare batteries are."

I asked my dad why he still keeps all my childhood artwork, even the really bad drawings, and he said

it's because he's not looking at the artwork, he's looking at the memory, and that's something no artist can replicate.