It’s where I get it from, I’m convinced. So. With that in mind, here is my column from this week’s paper – our Father’s Day edition. It’s like what we did for Mother’s Day. My dad wrote a column that ran next to mine. I’ll post his tomorrow. For now, read mine. 🙂 Please?
About a month ago, I pitched an idea to my mom that had been thrown around the office—write a column for our paper about being a parent for Mother’s Day. She reluctantly agreed and my dad encouraged her. I warned him not to think he was immune, Father’s Day was a month away and he’d be expected to write one next.
My dad has three daughters, so he hasn’t always had it very easy around the house. He’s always been outnumbered. But he’s coped well. I remember playing “VCR Football” with him at a young age – it’s what I think of to this day every time I hear John Madden’s voice – and even though we had a lot of girly toys and took dance classes as children, we also went to baseball, football and basketball games and watched Three Stooges and Pink Panther movies with him. My sisters even played the game “Risk” with him on a boys’ night when he invited some of my male cousins and uncle over. I played Scrabble with Mom.
Risk makes me sleepy.
If you read his column, already you’ll see where he recalled how he’s let us put his hair in ponytail holders before, but drew the line at fingernail polish or makeup – which we then just transferred to my cousin Aaron. Sorry, Aaron.
He’s good at grilling but not the greatest in the kitchen. He’ll admit it, too. In fact, my sisters and I have a plan to start a TV show called “Strangers To The Kitchen,” where we’ll try to show how bad we are at cooking. Dad will be our special guest who we’ll occasionally ask “What do we do next?” He’ll just shrug his shoulders and walk away. Should be a hit.
He acts like he’s not good with cars, but he’s fixed just about every car issue I’ve ever had – or at least paid for it to be. He helped me learn how to negotiate for a new car a couple months ago. I did pretty well, except for the whole minute and a half I showed my emotions – a no-no according to him, if you want them to sell you the car at a price you can afford.
If you read my dad’s column already you’ll notice that in it, he doesn’t give himself a lot of credit. But he should.
He’s one of the smartest and kindest people I know. He’s an elementary school principal and when I see the way those kids at his school act around him and hear how much they think of him, I’m even prouder he’s my dad. For his birthday in December, he came home with a box of presents and cards from just about every kid in the school. They also made a list of reasons why he’s the best principal, including the fact that he “loves America,” “likes cake,” “pays for our field trips” and “lets us get Dilly Bars.”
He does try to keep up with what we like, even though sometimes he gets the names wrong – usually on purpose – just don’t try to make him watch “America’s Next Top Model.” He doesn’t have a Facebook but he’s recently entered the texting world, which is a big deal. He’s always there for us and he always makes sure we know how proud he is of us all. He’s funny, often when he’s trying not to be.
And if I had to make a list like his students did of why he’s the best dad, paying for my field trips and letting me get a Dilly Bar would be on there for sure. There’d be plenty of other things on the list, probably too many to mention.
In his column, he says he feels blessed. I hope he knows that his daughters feel the same. Happy Father’s Day, Pa.