We didn’t do much for Father’s Day. Atticus gave me a card and we wore the included matching Care Bear stickers proclaiming me the “World’s Best Dad” out in public. It was a quiet and lazy day. I made the obligatory calls to my dad and step-dad and wished them well.
It’s not that I wasn’t sincere in my calls and thoughts, it’s just that I had to do it. Men don’t make a lot of phone calls for well-wishes. It’s not our thing.
Father’s Day is barely hanging on thanks to Home Depot and some ads in the Sunday paper. Dad’s don’t need a day- we already have it: Sunday. We watch football and tinker in the yard. We spend quality time with our kids and bbq something meatable for dinner. At some point we drink a beer. Father’s Day is that with a card and possibly a tie.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate my sticker. I love my boys and if that means I wear a Care Bear on the center of my shirt while walking through Trader Joe’s than so be it. Embarrassment is not in the Dad Dictionary (exception: causing embarrassment).
That being said I offer my greetings and all things good to my fellow dads out there. Now go turn the burgers, I smell smoke.