They woke me up early and took me to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. 

No ties or underwear or socks.  Instead, the three little people presented me with artwork and candy and a poem.

The Father Poem

(by Gabriella age 6, with help from her mother age 30 something)

Daddy, we love you

You take us to the park

You play with us a lot

And catch fireflies in the dark

You build blocks with us

You take us to the creek

We like to wrestle with you

You scare us in hide and seek

We go to Chick-fil-A

You take us to the mall

You play cars with me

You throw me the softball

You make the sounds like tools

When you help me brush my teeth

You read me books at bed time

And sing me songs to go to sleep

We love you Daddy!

Then, after church, I was given the afternoon to do whatever I wanted.  Of course I wanted to do some work so I’d have less to do this week, or go on a date with Becky, or do nothing at all.  But it felt wrong to work on Father’s Day and we couldn’t find a babysitter.  And being married to Becky means I never do nothing at all.  She “suggested” I shop for a video camera since ours busted a year ago and we’ve caught none of our kids’ lives on tape since then.  I suggested I just buy a camera on-line but she suggested that electronics stores would be running Father’s Day sales.  I suggested that the top rated camcorder according to Consumer Reports wouldn’t be on sale.  I headed out the door anyway, suspecting there was a hidden agenda behind her sending me shopping. 

After checking prices at seven stores I headed home empty-handed and walked in the door to the smell of dinner.  The kids had made me scrambled eggs, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Tostito chips, and apple slices.  And water to drink.  I did my best to pretend it was the best meal I’d ever had.  I must be a good actor because they’ve volunteered to cook for me one day every week from now on.

When the kids went to bed Becky and I sat around talking about how we don’t feel old enough or smart enough to be taking care of three children.  Seems like our own parents were kinder, wiser, and just plain better at this parenting thing than we are right now.  Maybe they’re just good actors too.