June 11, 2013

What Every Dad Wants for Father's Day

Every year my wife asks me what I want for Father’s Day. This is a courtesy question of course, much like “Do you like this outfit?1” and “Do you think you could stop leaving globs of toothpaste in the sink? 2.” My answer doesn’t matter—Father’s Day has already been planned out months in advance. Half the day is spent with my family, half the day spent with my wife’s. So I generally give a generic answer like, “Anything is fine by me” or “As long as we’re eating some kind of grilled meat today, I’m good.”

But let me tell all the wives out there a little secret: There is something that dads want for Father’s Day. It’s not a “#1 Dad” mug or the chance to sleep in or Diamond Club tickets to Great American Ballpark (though we certainly wouldn’t turn any of those down). What dads really want for Father’s Day is recognition of how awesome we are. That’s all. It may sound silly, but it’s the truth.

Now I know what you’re thinking: How will I possibly get the kids to do this in time for Father’s Day? I mean, it’s been nearly 6 months and they still haven’t completed their Christmas thank-you cards! Have no fear, my motherly friends. To help you out I’ve taken the liberty to write the letter for you. Just have the kids sign it and give it to your husband. You’re welcome.

Dear Dad,

Over the past year it has become abundantly clear that you are, without a doubt, the coolest human being we’ve ever known. You are even cooler than the iPad that we fight over every second of every day. We were going to buy you a tie that plays music to thank you for being our dad, but instead decided to save that cash and deposit it into a Money Market account that gets prime plus one. Pretty awesome, huh? We also wanted to take a moment to let you know what we love about you.

First and foremost, we love that you enjoy snuggling with us on the couch and that you rarely complain when we dig our elbows into your sternum in our efforts to get comfortable. We recognize that this shifting can take up to 25 minutes, but once the proper comfort-level is reached, we know you are just as happy as we are—regardless of whether or not you can see the book that we’ve asked you to read.

We love that you show infinite patience when we need it most, like when we accidentally got marker on the couch and when we broke the remote control to the TV, leaving it permanently stuck on Dora for the entire month of February. We promise to show this same patience in the coming year by accepting your responses to questions like “Are we there yet?” and “Why can’t we eat at McDonalds every night? ” instead of asking them 17 times per minute.

We love that you bare superhero strength, which we appreciate each time we fall asleep in the car and you carry us up to bed. We’re not sure how you stay so strong, as your only source of exercise (other than carrying us) seems to be lifting up the couch so we can clear out all the toys that keep ending up under it. We’re honestly unclear on how they get there in the first place, though we suspect mom is to blame.

We love how rational you are and, based on all the useless facts you know, we are convinced that you must be the smartest person alive not named Doc McStuffins. You prove this time and time again as you can tell us the jersey number of every ballplayer who ever played for your favorite baseball team, including Todd Benzinger and Wily Mo Pena. (And yes, we know you know that the answers are #25 and #26, respectively) It’s this wisdom that we shall strive to emulate in school, in life and, most important, in our future fantasy sports leagues.

We appreciate how hard you work to provide us with things, like a food, shelter and Disney on Ice tickets. We also know how tired you are when you get home, so we promise to work a little harder and clean up our stuff so your feet aren’t subjected to landmines and Lego Limp. Most of all, though, we want you to know that we appreciate how much you love us and take care of us. No matter how busy or exhausted you are, you still make time to play with us and read to us and sing to us at bedtime. Your special blend of hugs and kiss magically heal everything from scraped knees to sadness, and you’re calm composed manner always eases our worries. Also, we know that you occasionally take a dive when playing Candy Land. Thanks for that.
Finally, we love you so much that we promise that, on this special day dedicated to dads, we will be on our best behavior. We also promise to spend the day quoting your favorite movies, like The Sandlot. For example: ”For-ev-ver” and “Heroes get remembered, but Legends never die.”
Dad, you are a hero and a legend. You are also tall.

Your Kids

Your husband will be so excited to get a letter like this that he will forget about all the stressful things that went into Father’s Day. He will also forget about this letter by Wednesday, so you can reuse it year after year. That’s right, it’s the gift that keeps on giving. Of course, if you already bought the Diamond Club tickets send them my way. After all, no sense in letting them go to waste.

1 It doesn’t matter what you say, she’s going to change and make you late.
2 Red alert: This isn’t a question, it’s most likely a passive aggressive way to get you to stop leaving globs of toothpaste in the sink.  Whatever you do, don't pat her butt.

* This post originally appeared on one of my favorite sites, Family Friendly Cincinnati.

Oh Boy, You're Having a Girl
(A Dad's Survival Guide to Raising Daughters)

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* Also, follow me on Twitter @BrianKlems. I promise to occasionally say funny things. 


ShannanB said...

I wish I had even an ounce of your writing talent. Thanks for providing such a wonderful, witty post for our readers. It was laugh-out-loud material.

The Triplett Family said...

Funny as always. Enjoy reading your blog. :)

MasonMetu - www.masonmetu.com said...

Great post - I was laughing out loud.

Anonymous said...

Congratulations on your Enquired coverage. Amazing how they give so many reasons to visit your blog without mentioning its URL.

Enjoyed your tooth fairy dilemma and lunchtime dadnotes. (We called them bagnotes). Daughter is 25 but still keeps them. Maybe you have inspired me to photo the best ones, before they get lost.

Thanks a bunch,
Ken in Milford.