Sunday, June 18, 2006

Honor Thy Father.

Do Deadbeat Dads feel guilt on Fathers Day?

I mean, they must know what day it is. If they have a T.V. or read a newspaper, it's hard to miss the advertising. They must feel a twinge of shame when they wake up in the morning and there's no card, phone call or gift.

It takes more than just depositing sperm to be a Dad.
You have to be there for them, you have to coach them, protect them, comfort them, and above all, teach them all the stupid little tricks that you think are funny. (Seriously? I've taught The Boy "Wonder Twin Powers! Activate!" Nobody else will have a clue what the hell he's talking about if he does that outside of the house.)

My Dad hung around.
He was the provider, the breadwinner, and the enforcer. He worked long hours so that we could have all the things that he never had as a child. Was I spoiled growing up? Not really. I'm amazed at the work ethic my parents instilled in me, and I wish I'm able to pass it on to my kids. I'll always remember Dad taking over the coaching reins of the T-Ball team that my brother and I were on. He made it fun, but he also made us winners. It was like the Bad News Bears, except that our coach had more of a beer gut.

It's not easy being a Dad.
Mom's get all the glory, the fame, and the rewards. Sure they carried you around for nine months and gave birth to you in pain and blood, but who was the one that cut the cord? If it wasn't for Dads ,we'd all still be stuck to our mothers. Think about that for a second. Cold Shiver? Me too.

I hope everyone called their Dads today. I called mine. Mine didn't call me, one was in the bed, and the other was standing beside it when I woke up. It was great. (If they are still doing it when they are eighteen, not so great.)


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