On a recent morning, my daughter woke up before dawn, picked out an outfit for herself and shook me awake to announce, "Papa said it's water-play today!"

Ordinarily something like this wouldn't get me to wake up a half-hour early, but I was puzzled. Who was this mysterious Papa?

My daughter has a Daddy and a grandpa she calls Zeyde.

There are no Papas in her life, except, I guess, when she decides to rename her Zeyde.

I bring it up because my daughter seems to categorize the people in her life by gender.

Women are the protectors. If I fail her, she begs for Grandma.

The men, however, are the ultimate authorities.

She constantly says with conviction: "My Daddy said this. ..." or "My Zeyde told me. ..."

It even trickles down to her brother.

If she's looking for validation, she'll look to her big brother and say, "Right, Corwin?"

I think it's because men are also the fun ones.

Daddy is the tickle monster. Daddy is the one who is willing to sit through "Happy Feet" repeatedly when I just put it on and read a book.

Daddy is the one who entertains her when I can't be bothered, even if it means he needs to play 10,000 rounds of cow racing on the Wii.

Her Zeyde, meanwhile, is the one who surprises her by picking her up from school early to go to the movies. He's the one who taught her to expect Dairy Queen every time she goes to Ala Moana.

He's also the one she asks for, hopefully, when she decides that my plans are boring.

If he tells her to expect something, she can't rest until it happens.

She's usually a sound sleeper who doesn't bother to open her eyes as I get her dressed, into the car and halfway to her classroom in the morning.

Having her rushing me out of bed and into the shower on a weekday was something novel. I suspect only her Zeyde wields that kind of influence.

The fact that it led to an unexpectedly early bedtime that meant her dad and I could watch an R-rated movie made me consider my father with the same reverence that she does.

I love you, Dad! Happy Father's Day!

Reach Treena Shapiro at tshapiro@honoluluadvertiser.com.