I can't remember how old I was exactly... five, six, seven? I don't think I was seven yet and I couldn't have been five... maybe I was five...? Anyway, every now and then my dad would pick me up from school and we would walk home. My house was only a few blocks away from the school. One day when Daddy came to pick me up, we were joking around and he asked me if I wanted to race the rest of the way home. Hell yeah, I wanted to race! I loved to run! We ran down the block and I beat him to the house! He kept telling me that I had cheated. lol I always knew that he let me win, but it felt good regardless. lol That's one of my fondest memories of me and my Dad. :-)
At this point, though, we're not really speaking to one another.