I hate Father’s Day. Oh, I love my dad. But Father’s Day is such
a bummer
– because of the Gift. You know, the Gift that’s just perfect
for a dad who doesn’t need any gifts.
I hate Father’s Day. Oh, I love my dad. But Father’s Day is such a bummer – because of the Gift. You know, the Gift that’s just perfect for a dad who doesn’t need any gifts.
When I was a child, the Gift was simple. Dad got whatever I’d made in school the week before. And when I was older, it was even easier. Dad got whatever mom bought for us to give him.
But now that I am an adult, I have to choose the Gift. This isn’t easy. My dad is the King of Gadgets, the James Bond of all the men on earth. If there’s a gadget to be purchased, my dad has it. And it’s usually sitting in the closet in the spare room, gathering dust.
It’s not that Dad doesn’t love his gadgets – he does. It’s just that Dad and I have the same attention span – which means the two of us can stay focused on one thing for about three seconds, maybe more in my case, but that’s only if I’m shoe shopping. Anyway, Dad usually gets a gadget and is done with it before the batteries die.
And that’s why I hate Father’s Day.
Oh, I know. I could be one of those people from the Hallmark commercials and just spend time with Dad on Father’s Day. And I do. But somehow I feel this extreme need to show my affection for Daddy by buying him something.
But buying a gift for Dad usually drives me crazy. He’s got everything he needs – and lots of stuff he doesn’t. But this year, Mom gave me a short list of stuff Dad would like to add to his closet gadget collection.
The first item on the list was a monocular. These are like binoculars, but with only one eye doo-hickey. Now, the last time I looked, Dad had two eyes. And I’m pretty sure he already has a monocular gathering dust in the spare room since I gave him one a couple of Christmases ago. Maybe he wants the other eye to have a monocular too – but please. That’s what binoculars are for.
Next, Dad wants a new GPS. Now, Dad already has a GPS – plus, he has Mom. If he didn’t know where he was, Mom would tell him where to go. Or where he should be. Or she would stop and ask for directions. So, no GPS for Dad.
Finally, he wants a watch with a Palm PDA built in. Please. This is a man who doesn’t dial the phone by himself – he doesn’t need a PDA to store numbers. And my mother would never in a million years allow my dad to determine their social calendar. If he did, they’d travel the world, searching for NASCAR races. I can’t possibly buy him this. My mother would kill me.
So what did I get for Dad? A laser level. It’s one of those bubble level thingies that men seem to love and constantly lose, but it has an added, James Bond-type bonus. There’s a laser in it. So Dad can point the little red light at stuff and feel superior to all the other men who are still using their stone-age era bubble levels.
And if he doesn’t like it, that’s OK. Next year, I’m just going to sneak into his spare room and dust off his old monocular and tell him it’s for the other eye.
And, if I’m lucky, Dad will go nuts trying to find the other monocular. That’s a gift for me. Isn’t Father’s Day great?
