Oh, Father’s Day. Or as I like to call it, Golf and Grill Day. Because for dads, those two things seem to be a given to commemorate their contribution of humans to the world.
My husband freaking rocked Mother’s Day this year. So much so that I pretty much can’t compete. There is no way that anything I purchase for him is going to one-up his thoughtfulness and gratitude he showed me for my parent day. And add to that, the fact that I find him to basically be the best dad EV.ER. And I find myself with quite the predicament. Crap.
So the two oldest boys and I have been tossing ideas back and forth. Pasta jewelry seems to top their suggestion list. And a new super hero shirt. But otherwise, I feel like they are lacking a bit in the outta-the-park ideas. So I’ve compiled a list of things I think could be winner winner chicken dinners. If I could only pull them off…
For Father’s Day this year, I think my husband would really love…
1. To Golf. An entire round. Without receiving any text updates from his wife {that, would be me}. Regarding the children. Their poop. Their tantrum tallies. Or their shenanigans. The likelihood of achieving this one will most likely depend on if he is golfing 9 or 18 holes. Because let’s be real. Going 4-5 hours without updating him as to our children’s calamities is unlikely given our current life situation of boys ages 5, almost 3, and 6 months.
2. To take his two eldest boys out back. Kick around the soccer ball. And “coach” them a little. And not have it end in the oldest stomping off in a huff because he’s not perfect at it. This is probably not gonna happen this year. Or next. Or the next. But maybe when the he’s 12. Or not.
3. To watch an entire episode of Sons of Anarchy. In full volume. Without me shuddering every time another person takes one to the skull. And talking about how violent the chosen programming happens to be. I think I can pull this off. If I duct tape my eyes shut. And put socks in my ears.
4. To magically have the lawn sheared and edges trimmed. And not look like I did it. Because I have no spatial intelligence. And he knows that. And still loves me somehow. Some way.
5. To drive without his wife grabbing the o’ darn handle every time he bobs, weaves, or brakes in traffic. As long as we are not in the car together, on the highway or interstate, I think this is totally doable.
6. Funkytown. Thank you Parenthood for giving the best euphemism. Ever. You know what I mean? He wants to take you to Funkytown. And he wants you to want to go to Funkytown. Let’s be real. Every man does. There are three days a year that should be sure things unless their wife has just given birth hours before. And this. Is one of them. So let him take you to Funkytown. Or you can take him. Whatever floats your marital boat.
7. To go to the bathroom, alone. With his phone, book, or whatever is necessary to feel like he is at the spa. The man spa, that is. Where time is endless. And ESPN is constantly updating their homepage.
8. To not have to wear raingear in order to hold his youngest child. Who spits up every four.three seconds of the day. I think this might be achievable as long as he doesn’t hold the baby. For more than four.two seconds. At any point. All day.
9. To eat man food. Meat. Potatoes. Carbs. Man grub. That gets his hands dirty from sauces and the like. And not feel the effects in either his esophagus. His gut. Or his man spa time.
10. To only have the children referred to as his children when they are angelic little cherubs who sneeze rainbows.
11. To receive a collection of shirts that repel food and drink. When they are ultimately and certainly spilled on. Because he’s getting his hands dirty. From the man food.
12. To have one day forthcoming in which the Huskers play football in the morning. Baseball in the afternoon. And Nebrasketball at night. Complete with Runzas, Val’s Pizza, and Watering Hole wings.
13. To have an unlimited supply of razors. That never nick him. And never break at the handle. So he never has to worry about his dome looking gruff or his face full of scruff. Time to call the Dollar Shave Club…
14. To listen to the entire duration of his jam… Pitbull’s Timber… without a request to turn the station to Kids Place Live.
15. To be able to sleep in. No lie… in our house, the Mrs. is usually the sleeper-inner. I just may be able to sacrifice this for one day. One. Maybe. In 2022.
16. To go on a run. At the temperature of 62 degrees. With a 10 mph breeze always at his back. And a beer at the finish. I can totally handle the beer.
17. A phone that has never been dropped in a huge glass of water or has a screen that looks like a spider web. And doesn’t require 84 calls to Squaretrade to have the service plan managed.
18. The perfect old fashioned. With one of those big ice balls. Complete with Templeton Rye.
19. A day free of passive aggressive nagging about socks on the floor. And/or receipts crumpled on the counter. Or talk of how it’s just different for moms. Ain’t no dad got time for that.
20. To hang out with a crew of nerds. And talk all things nerdery. And geek out about things like coding. And user interface. And other nerd things of which I have no knowledge.
21. Time to gloriously smoke some type of meat. All day. That was once the butt of something. That will later be paired with sauces. And other man food trappings. That will ultimately get his hands dirty.
22. To watch the original Star Wars Trilogy with his two oldest boys. All in one day. In silence. To just take in the complete awesomeness of the original episodes. And bask in their glory.
23. A night at the casino with endless budget. And the true, instinctual ability to actually know when to hold ’em. And when to fold ’em. Because now I’m realizing that by adding this one, I’ve effectively painted my very doting, involved, dedicated husband as a boozing, gambling, fast and loose driver, who just wants to eat crap. Happy Father’s Day, sweetie!
24. To completely eliminate the word no from the almost three year old’s vocab. For one day. And one day only. About as likely as leaving Costco without spending a hundred and fifty bills. And though I borrowed this from my Mother’s Day wish list, I felt it was that wanted. By both of us.
24. To have his kids tell him everything they love about him. And why he’s the very best daddy they could ever have.
I suppose the list may be a bit of a BHAG. But at the very least, I can make the last one will happen. Because his boys completely and utterly adore him. And somehow, I think that just may be enough. That. And of course, Funkytown.
If you could make a list of what your Mister wants for Father’s Day, what would you include? How do you show your leading lad that he’s the best dad?
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