We pass by this guy about twice a day.
Every time we do, Claire kicks her legs in excitement and yells, "It'th Papa!! It'th PAPA!! th'not Daddy. Papa."
Papa is what they call my dad. I don't really see a resemblance.
But either way, my children are at no risk of forgetting my parents. And as a bonus, my youngest associates him with the jolly chicken man. Which, you know, is better than a lot of other things.