Father's Day

Being a dad is great. Especially during the early years when your children think you’re infallible. They don’t know when you make a mistake, and you don’t have to tell them. For instance, you can inadvertently terrify them of elevators and say it wasn’t your fault. It’s great. If childhood is a foreign country, dads have diplomatic immunity.

But kids grow up. And some of them even remember things about their once infallible fathers. My boys are (thankfully) too young to remember anything from their childhood yet, so I’m in the clear. My father, on the other hand, is not.

I’m able to remember the time he comically banged the bottom of a ketchup bottle on the table and ketchup splattering all over the ceiling. I’m able to remember the time he rear ended the car in front of us when he was trying to read the sticker on its bumper (presumably it didn’t say, “if you can read this you’re too close”). I’m able to remember the time he drove the station wagon over the blocks he was trying to put it up on to change the oil in the driveway.

But even as kids grow up to start recognizing the humanity of their dads (oh, the humanity!) they start to pick up on their magnanimity too. Or at least their willingness to give generously of themselves.

The fact is at some point kids realize their dad probably wiped their snotty nose, or wiped their butt, or endured a tv show rife with purple singing dinosaurs at least once (probably more).

And when they get to that point they realize that even if their dad wasn't perfect he was the perfect dad for them. These types of realizations as a kid help mold you as a parent.

As I venture into fatherhood I’m becoming more aware of where a lot of my parenting skills have come from. I think it’s great that I can learn from things my dad has done. I’ll be the first to say his parenting has made me a better dad. And in addition to learning to follow his example, some of the best lessons are what I learned not to do. For instance, sneaking up behind your young son and banging two pots together in order to test his hearing is not the best way to conduct such a test. It is however an excellent way to make him fear loud noises. And pots.

As they should be, dads are powerful figures in the lives of their children. And even though I’m aware of how fallible all dads are through my own experience, I can’t help but still think of my dad as better than the rest. I’m blessed to have my dad and I hope my sons feel that same way when they grow up. If not, I can always start testing their hearing.