If you’re reading this and Father’s Day has already passed, and
you’re back to forgetting about your dear old dad, then good
– I’m glad you’re reading this a few days after the fact.
If you’re reading this and Father’s Day has already passed, and you’re back to forgetting about your dear old dad, then good – I’m glad you’re reading this a few days after the fact. We can always use a refresher course on why we celebrate our founding fathers. Oh, sorry, wrong holiday. That’s next month. Well, you know what I mean.
Father’s Day isn’t just for anybody. It’s for the father who spends three weekends in the garage trying to assemble a new bike with nothing but a wrench and a butter knife. It’s for the father who pays to have any toy that comes in more than two pieces, assembled before leaving the store.
It’s for the father who takes the family camping for a week to “rough it” with nothing but a few sleeping bags and a Swiss army knife. And for the father who thinks “roughing it” is spending the night in a discount hotel without cable TV.
It’s for the father who spends Saturday afternoon coaching his child’s Little League team. And for the one who spends Saturday afternoon watching his child’s Little League team.
It’s for the father who takes the family on long bike rides around the neighborhood. And for the dad whose only exercise is pushing the buttons on the remote control with his thumb.
It’s for the father who uses power tools to build his children a sturdy wooden fort in the backyard. And for the father who uses two cardboard boxes and duct tape.
It’s for the father who helps his children brush their teeth before going to bed. And the one who teaches them how to rinse by spitting water between their two front teeth like a fountain.
It’s for the father who teaches his teenager how to change the oil, spark plugs, and tires on the family car. And for the father who has trouble programming the time on the dashboard clock.
It’s for the father who scrubs his children each night during bath time. And for the father who teaches his children how to catapult the soap into the sink with the washcloth.
It’s for the father who knows where he is going before he gets in the car for a family outing. And for the dad who doesn’t need directions because he knows his destination is “somewhere around here.”
It’s for the father who gives his child $5 for a tooth he spent an hour trying to pull out with a string. And even for the father who tries to reuse the bath water.
It’s for the father who puts up the Christmas lights by November and takes them down by Jan. 1. And for the father who never gets them up because the last time he saw the ladder it was propping up the back end of the car while he changed the tire.
It’s for the father who reads Good Night Moon to his toddler for the 97th time, and even the one who recites the TV Guide listings aloud from the newspaper.
It’s for the father who goes into the wilderness, skewers a worm on a hook, reels in a fish, and cooks it over an open flame on a piece of tin foil. And for the father who needs a welding torch and a bucket of kerosene to light the briquettes in the barbecue.
It’s for the father who is tall, short, rich, poor, generous, cheap, married, single, mustached, bearded or bald.
But most of all, it’s for every father who loves his children.
