I’m a little late on this, but the past couple weeks have been doozies. A belated Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. Even though most moms consider their husband/partner another child 87% of the time, we really do need you. Studies and that John Mayer song have shown that it is the quality of relationship with the father, not the mother, that determines how well a kid turns out. But secretly, we moms appreciate you, too. Consider, if you will:
In most cases today, the Dad actually sees you give birth. Even I didn’t have to watch that, and I was the one doing it. Watching could scar a man. Yet they remain married to us, usually for at least two more years.
They then put up with anywhere from a couple months to a couple decades of us wearing ratty “I donated blood today” T-shirts to bed and not giving them a second look.
Call me sexist, but I firmly believe some things are a man’s job, and my husband complies. Foremost among these: taking out the garbage. I do not do garbage (except on Father’s Day). I recently was informed, however, that I also do not water plants. Mr. Embee does! How did I not realize I never watered them? It’s one of my endearing qualities. The Mr., a dutiful husband, does it for me without a word. How nice of him.
They play on a whole different level. My mother says “Women play with children. Men become children when they play.” This often ends in the moms telling dad and child that someone is going to break a bone if they keep tackling each other that way, but the kids love it.
Dads are strong. My number one excuse as to why I can’t swing Sally around, or lift her over my head, or jog, or reach the remote, is that I’m “not as strong as Daddy.”
Dads will wear a boa and princess crown. Enough said.
A good father will stare down any boy you bring home. A great father will hug the guy you decide to marry.
Moms pretty routinely expect dads to read our minds. You don’t. But then when we’re upset about something and you actually do try to read our minds and solve the problem, we get angry because PLEASE, like you can possibly know what I’m feeling! And then, poor dads, their daughters do the same thing to them.
So thanks, dads. We love you for your garbage hauling, spider killing, apartment-moving skills, knowing stuff about machines, caring about cybersecurity, setting up the Tivo, carrying kids on your shoulders, not flinching when we scream that the house is a disaster and we can’t stand it anymore, buying us a bottle of wine on your way home from work just because we called and said we need a drink–pronto, and a whole host of more important stuff. Hope you had a great day.