A Father's Day Thank You

A few years ago, my kids gave me a Father’s Days card that said, “You’re welcome” on the cover. On the inside it said, “without us, this would just be another Sunday.” In that vein, I’m taking the opportunity of Father’s Day to thank my kids for other things they’ve given me. 

I want to thank the 7-year-old for the gift of not letting me delude myself into thinking I’m patient. That kid knows how to push my buttons. There’s a saying that goes something like, “patience is a virtue...found seldom in a woman and never in a man.” That’s because that man has a son. 

I want to thank the 6-year-old for the insanely high-pitch squeal of dissatisfaction he deploys when one of his brothers does something he doesn’t like. Because of this backbone shivering shriek, I’ve learned to distinguish between fake or annoyed cries, and legitimate injury cries. This has paid dividends when I’m in the garage and the cry goes up in the backyard. 

I want to thank the 4-year-old for the gift of not being subtle. You know how, especially when reading a work of literature from another time, something can happen but you’re not entirely sure if what you think happened is what the author is trying to discreetly tell you? This is NEVER the problem with the 4-year-old. The kid is as subtle as a cannon shot in a cave. I get home from work and he’s bombarding me with more tattles, tales, and requests than I could hear in a day. But you know what? I never have to guess at his meaning. 

I want to thank the 2-year-old for the gift of making sure no night of sleep goes uninterrupted. Despite this sounding tongue-in-cheek, the kid has rendered a service by forcing me to adapt to nightly wakings and still being able to function. He also eliminated the need for adjusting back to newborn nights when his baby brother was born. I never had a chance to miss the full nights of sleep since they had been gone for a long time by the time he was born. 

I want to thank the baby for not having too much hair on his head. It was nice to get through the year and not be the person in our house with the least amount of head hair. Very considerate for someone who regularly poops his pants.

To the kids, in the end, I just have to say, “You’re welcome.” Because without me, you wouldn’t have been able to give me any of these gifts.