Cornfield Meet

Things collide here.

What I Got for Father’s Day

My wife Jenn worked the early
shift today, and my daughter spent the night at her grandma’s house, so I had a good chunk of
Father’s Day to myself, so I went out running.

In the fourth mile, I started
taking my mind off the run and making a thank-you list for my wife and daughter: All the things they give me day in and day out that are so much
more important than a new tech gadget or a card or even
fresh-baked brownies. (Though if anyone’s asking, from that list, always pick Door No. 3.)

Here are some of them – and having
a family who makes a list like this possible, is, naturally, the best Father’s
Day present ever.

To Jenn:

Thanks for understanding why whiny
Luke Skywalker is funny and classic, while whiny Anakin Skywalker is annoying.

Thanks for recognizing how
important it is to me sometimes to leave the family room and work on writing that’s got nothing to do with earning a
paycheck. (Yet.) It’s more supportive and encouraging than you know.

Thanks for those moments during
our arguments when we still manage to go about the business of making dinner or
doing laundry or cleaning the kitchen and saying "please" and "thank you" even
while we’re fighting.

Thanks for being stronger and more courageous
in your life and your career and your health than you realize. Our daughter could not have a better role model.

Thanks for being the kind of
mom who’s got a talk-about-anything relationship with our daughter. Growing up in a three-boys-no-girls house has left me largely ineffective in some parenting situations.

Thanks for cooking vindaloo.
Seriously: It’s my favorite. Thing. Ever. At least supperly speaking.

To my daughter:

Thanks for being the kind of kid that
teachers and other people say awfully nice things about.

Thanks for feeling bad when you realize you’ve gotten a little too sarcastic: It’s tough, I know, especially when your parents have these warped senses of humor and can be a little smart-mouthed themselves.

Thanks for the difficult things
that you choose to talk to me about, and for the difficult things that you’d
rather share with your mother.

Thanks for sharing Guitar Hero III
cheesetastic jam sessions and appreciating the goofy addicting power that is
Dragonforce, as well as recognizing that The
Police and R.E.M. are, in fact, pretty cool for "old people" music.

Thanks for both wanting to be more
mature and not wanting to grow up too fast, and for recognizing that they’re not mutually exclusive.

Thanks for coming downstairs to
give me a goodbye hug in the morning before I go to work, even though it’s far
earlier than you need to get up, especially over summer vacation.

To both of you:

Thanks for telling me that you
think about my Dad, even though neither of you got to meet him.

Thanks for shouting out Jeopardy!
answers with me.

Thanks for rolling your eyes but
still smiling at my lame, lame jokes.


There are a lot more of these – it
seems like I collected a lot more of them out there in the fields this morning,
but by the time I’d made it back home, it was hard to remember them all. 

At any rate: These are the things
you’re always getting me for Father’s Day, whether you know it or not, and they’ll never get old.

Brownies are still welcome.



June 15, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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