Happy (belated) Father’s Day
My day started off needing to go out with the kids.
My three-year-old son, as usual, had other plans.
“It’s time to get ready,” I let him know
“No,” he replied without missing a beat.
After a few other similarly fruitless attempts at persuasion, I stopped.
Is it just me, I wondered, or is he more “testy” than usual?
Then I realized.
It wasn’t “just me”. And I knew why.
Daddy wasn’t around.
Usually, when a battle of wills came around, I would head to the background and let my husband step up to the plate.
Now I was the main batter. And my son liked playing hardball.
Yes, at three years old.
I knew I had no other options. I stepped up to the plate. (Don’t worry, I didn’t really have a bat.) I let my son know, clearly and calmly, how I felt about his behavior and what I expected from him.
It worked . . . that time. The day held a few more similar episodes – to be expected as a mother of a strong-willed boy in his limit-testing era.
That evening, I wrote my husband a letter, thanking him for being just what he is – a father.
I also let him know I can’t wait until he gets back.
I’m ready for a break in the dugout.
My dad was also out of town on Father’s day, on a business trip. I had agreed to look after the birds and rabbit while he was away.
They aren’t my dad’s animals, actually. They’re my brother’s. But my parents have been looking after them for a while.
I texted my dad on Father’s Day morning and he called me a few hours later.
He thanked me for the text. And the rest of the phone conversation consisted of him asking about the animals.
Did the rabbit get water? Does he seem too hot? Did you switch on the air conditioner to cool them down a bit? I bought plenty of greens before we left. They’re in the fridge.
It’s not that my dad is overly partial to a rabbit. But he does love his son and knows the animals mean a lot to my brother.
I know my dad loves all of us.
We might not be children anymore, but we’ll always be his kids.
But I did get a chance to think.
About two great dads. About what they mean to their kids . . .
And to me.
Thank you . . .
Happy Father’s Day! (Better late than never.)