Happy father’s day. I hope you enjoy the grill that you had to buy yourself and you had to put together and you had to cook with. I know I enjoyed the steak you made the other night. Here’s your Father’s day blog a few days late. I know you checked out my blog on father’s day and I know you were disappointed when you found nothing. Is it really such a surprise? I didn’t blog about you on Father’s day and the closest thing you got to a gift was me giving you my blessing to buy the grill. Maybe this year you can find a day to celebrate Bad Wive’s day. In the event that you do decide to celebrate it and want to buy me a gift, I have really been eying up that black rocking chair for the front porch or a big hammock. Also, dinner would be nice.
The first time I saw you I was 15 and you walked into Mr. Farrell’s typing class.
I knew I would date you even though you didn’t even know my name.
I knew you would marry me even though my best friend had a crush on you.
I knew you would be the father to my children even though you thought we were just dating.
I knew you would soon be the father of a second child even though we were only walking down the isle.
I knew you would be the father of a third child while you were just holding your first son for the very first time.
I knew you would be the father of a fourth child… well no actually that one was a total surprise.
What I never knew was how great of a father you would ever turn out to be.
You are strong enough to throw the boys far up into the air and catch them, but sensitive enough to help Petey feed his baby doll…
You are serious enough to talk about sex with the older boys, but comical enough to scheme with the boys and play practical jokes on me (I’m still mad about the capsizing canoe trick and I will get you back)…
You are big enough to have room on your lap for all of them, but small enough to climb up into the tree house to stain it each year…
You are easy going enough to allow the boys to eat Cheetos in our bed, but hard enough to put a boy in time out when he talks back…
You are disciplined enough to drag four boys to church each and every Sunday, but impulsive enough to let them… well maybe not impulsive, I can’t actually think of anything to fit here.
You balance me out so nicely. We are such a good mommy/daddy team.
I am impulsive… you are structured…
I am strict… you are…ummmmm… less strict…
I am crabby sometimes… you are mostly always upbeat…
I am lazy… you are energetic…
I am a cooker… you are a cleaner…
I am the cuddler… you are the wrestler…
I am the sleep police… you are the rule bender…
I am the Mommy and you are the Daddy
When I first met you I never considered what kind of a father you’d turn out to be. Frankly, I was more concerned with convincing my best friend to fall out of love with you so I could fall in love with you and also how to do all of this and still pass the stupid typing class. I guess it turns out I was successful, with the love thing, not so much the typing. But look at what a good typist I am today. Who knew? But more importantly, look at what a great father you’ve become. We’ve learned a lot, but the fourth time around I think you’ve got it figured out. I wouldn’t want to be on this parenting journey with anyone else. You are a fabulous father and fairly decent husband. If we were taking votes for the best father in the world, I know that you could count on me for a vote and I’m pretty sure I know four little boys whom I could persuade to choose you.
Happy belated Father’s Day.
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