Thanks dads.
You know who you are.
The guys who will fix your kid's bike before you run off to your own tour de prairie. You're the guy who also helps fix your neighbor kids' bikes because their dad doesn't have the time or no longer lives there.
Thanks for PLAYING catch versus anxiously prepping your kid for the allstar team.
For reading The PaperBag Princess and the LEGOmaniac magazine for the bazillionth time because your kids love it and they love to curl up in your lap or flop beside you.
For loving your wives, being kind to your neighbors and strangers; for turning in the $100 bill you found in WalMart even though you know you needed it so much, but your own kids were watching.
Thank you for getting back up after skidding to an icy stop (again) at the ice skating ring, for imparting your super-secret BBQ sauce recipe to the next generation, running to see what treasure we found in the grass (again), and putting the toilet seat down.
Thank you for apologizing when things didn't go so well; maybe you were up late doing taxes, or praying about a job or friends at work, or that hammer+thumb smash = crusty language episode… You know that you don't have to be perfect and we so appreciate you and your best gifts…time, attention, and the freedom to love you.
Thank you for teaching us the value of time, our resources, and that money doesn't grow on trees nor does the fridge door close itself. Thank you for rescuing us when we needed it and standing with us when our knees knocked when we had to self-rescue.
Thank you for teaching us how to fly off of an Austrian ramp with classy moves, for adopting our now-annoying kid brother and sister, walking the dogs in the ice storm, and trying to make the world a better place by helping that family push their car out of traffic. We saw you give them that money, too. You grew 10 feet tall and we will never forget.
Thank you, dads, for playing dress up and ninja/pirate battle, for the stories of you growing up, for the time you devote to us – your family – and our friends. For the cereal menu when mom is away, teaching us the miracle of 100-mile-an-hour-tape, and believing in us when the coach called us onto the court and we didn't even believe in ourselves.
For loving us and our motley siblings, aunts, uncles, neighbors, church pals, and strangers…you are our superhero.
For jumping ALL IN to this life of diapers and disappointments, hopes and hula skirts, joys and hours on your knees.
We don't need all that stuff and trips to that mouse kingdom. We need you and your time and the words of life that only you can speak into us. We'd choose time with you over most anything (except when the ice cream truck trundles by).
Thank You for choosing us over great wealth, fame, stuff, girls on the side, and shock-and-awe-power. You chose us and it has made all of the difference in a weary world. You'll see.
And it's never too late to call us up or out on the lawn to get to know us…again with sidewalk chalk, a car engine to work on, or super soaker to start the conversation. (Don't give up, dads. Don't do it. Keep trying. Get on your knees for us – we're often on our knees for you, because we love you.)
Yoda says, "Choose wisely you have."
And we (and the world) are happier and healthier for it.
Thank you so much, Dad.
