The Fathers are coming, The Fathers are coming! I feel like Paul Revere running through the streets of the Hampton Roads to tell everyone about the least celebrated holiday in America. I think Kwanzaa gets more love…
Just wait, you’ll see. The lines at the restaurants will be normal. Nobody will be walking around with roses or boxes of chocolates. I’ve even heard some fathers say, ” Don’t do a lot for me.” Like he is easing the blow to his ego as he takes hot dogs off the grill and tosses his twenty-fifth pair of socks in his top drawer.
Of course everyone loves Dad, but it’s usually hard to create a surprising atmosphere for someone who is financing his own event.
Sure, you could pick your own gift; some cologne, a new pair of shoes or that new necktie you’ve been eyeballing. But no, most men like myself find more joy in providing for his family. So most of us forfeit our own personal needs so our family can have everything little hearts desire.
This year my Happy Father’s Day gift to myself was a brand spanking new set of tires on my SUV for $481 and that pair of windshield wipers that I literally can’t seem to take my eyes off of. Something about my babies being safe and growing up to be awesome people is all the gifts I need.
That’s just who we are. We don’t do what we do for recognition because we never get it. Whenever your son scores that touchdown he will always turn and say “Hi Mom!” in the end zone. Your daughter will always speak about how she gets all her style and wisdom from the strongest woman she knows. But Dad did just as many late night pep talks and tossed that ball around a thousand times to hone that hand eye coordination.
So this year when you hand dad that gift card or that new baseball cap just tell him you love him and you remember every single day with and watch the tears roll because he surely does remember every moment with you.
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