It takes a special kind of person to be a dad. It isn’t a job for those easily scared, intimidated, or unable to be creative. Dads have to be able to fix a flat tire, but willing to have tea parties with their 5-year old daughters.

Girls are expected to be best friends with their moms. They’re the ones we go to when we’re 14 and need boy advice, need to shave our legs for the first time, and start that awkward developmental stage. But dads, they’re the ones who scoff at all of those things — and make us laugh every step of the way. My dad is truly my best friend.

My dad is the kind of dad who gets up early to fill my car up with gas before I start my drive back to college. My dad is the kind of dad who says, “Oh, good,” to a 16-year-old when she’s hysterical having just broken up with her boyfriend. My dad is the one who takes me home, instead of to the hospital when I have a broken ankle. In his defense, I think he would have preferred to hold me in his arms instead of see me in a hospital gown.

Dads are the fixers. They know what is wrong with your car, can snake a drain and buy you a tool set as a going away present. But they also teach you how to snap, and initiate late night dances in the kitchen.

Dads will watch Cinderella with their 3-year-old daughter a million times (or nowadays, Frozen) because it is her favorite. Or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off every time you miss school for a sore throat. They teach us the importance of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and James Taylor — but don’t allow Bieber within earshot.

When I left for college my dad and I had a stereotypical father-daughter relationship. We didn’t talk about the stuff that seemed most important to an 18-year-old girl. Mostly because I was focused on college parties, boys and which yoga pants to wear to class — and there is nothing my dad would enjoy talking about less than those things.

With every new day away from my parents, I came to a new discovery that I couldn’t wait to tell them. As a typical young adult, I was always on Facebook — and like a not-so-typical dad, mine was always on too. We talked about anything and everything. He knew about all of the things I was learning in my political science classes, and told me every day that he wanted me to come home and that he loved me.

We now chat on Facebook everyday. It’s just our thing. Maybe it’s because we’re both always on, or because neither of us like talking on the phone. But my dad and I — we have a special relationship, unlike any other. He’s my first text when something great happens, and I can always count on him to crack a joke when I really need it.

My dad taught me to be a feminist. He instilled the importance of working hard for every achievement, and never letting someone tell you that you can’t do something because you are a woman. No one was ever going to tell him that his daughter couldn’t do something — or that a man could do it better.

Nothing annoyed me more as an adolescent than to hear someone say, “You are JUST like your dad!” But now, there is no greater compliment. If you’re lucky, your dad is an incredible, inventive, dependable, hilarious person. He makes the world a better, more balanced place.

Here’s to all of the dads out there. Here’s to the dads who set up our fishing poles, and make fun of us for needing them to. Here’s to the dads who teach us the importance of standing up for ourselves, but kiss us on the forehead when times get tough. Here’s to the dads who dance with us at the end of a long day, and let us stand on our feet while we glide together.

Today is about how awesome all of our dads are, so make sure you give your dad a hug, a phone call, a card, or a laugh. Let him know that you love him for all of the big things he’s done, but especially for the little things.

Happy Father’s day to all of the Dad’s, and especially to my papa.