Last night I wrote a Father’s Day post that was a monument to sadness. It started dim and went straight into grim. It was awful. In retrospect I think I was writing something that needed to be written but not necessarily something I wanted to be read. At least, not on Father’s Day. So I didn’t publish it. Instead I went to bed and then got up at the buttcrack of dawn to go to Sonoma county to … watch a NASCAR race. My father-in-law, my brother-in-law (husband of Liz’s sister) and I left the women folk and Golden Boy behind to do manly things. That’s right, on Father’s Day I shirked my fatherly duties.
Or at least I tried to. Caroline let me know her displeasure at my decision to spend Father’s Day without her by telling me “bye-bye daddy” all morning, right up until the moment she threw a screaming fit when she saw me walk out the door. “Goodbye daddy, you cruel, unloving bastard!” It was a great way to start the day.
Then while I was at the track I found myself wandering around looking at all of the merchandise, trying to decide what I should get Thomas for a gift. I finally settled on a die cast M&M’s #18, as driven by Thomas’ favorite driver Kyle Busch. Because Golden Boy loves winners more than he loves the sons of winners. That’s how he rolls. Of course as I was making my choice I realized that I needed to get something for Caroline. I mean, she was at home crying (for hours by that point) over how her daddy had left her; the least I could do was get her a gift. So purchased a little plush M&M. Immediately I knew it was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to want the dumb plush candy. She was going to want a car. So I got her the Aflac #99, as driven by Carl Edwards.
Then while I was sitting in traffic on a hill in Sonoma, Thomas and Caroline were in Dublin having their first swim lessons ever. On Father’s Day. Without their father. Oh, so this is what guilt and regret feel like.
I had a great time at the race today. I got to tour the pits and garages. I had great seats, and the race was exciting. But the highlights of my day? The long hug Caroline gave me just before going to bed and reading Thomas Because Your Daddy Loves You while simeoultaneously teaching him how to do a summersault.
Disclosures:
1) The link to Amazon for “Because Your Daddy Loves You” is not an affiliate link. If you click and buy, I get nothing.
2) It turns out that Caroline was not crying because I was leaving but rather because she though her Grandma and Grandpa’s dog, Mocha, was also leaving. Once she was assured that this was not the case she stopped crying. Thereafter she spent the day in blissful ignorance of my existence.
7 Comments
Yup, that’s what it feels like. Nice to hear dads feel it, too. (ya know, in the crappy, I know how you feel kind of way).
Happy Father’s Day!
[Reply]
That little lady is going to be trouble.She is going to convince you to get her a pony any day now!
[Reply]
Is it lame if I just tell you that I kinda adore you? Oh well. Is true.
I hope you had a great Father’s Day, even if it wasn’t spent with your kids.
[Reply]
For goodness sakes, why are you beating yourself up for not spending time with your kids on a day that Hallmark dictates as the day to celebrate fathers? You should be celebrating the 364 other days a year you spend with them. I don’t know you personally, but you certainly seem like one of the most devoted and proud fathers on Twitter. Your kids are very lucky to have a father like you.
[Reply]
Who teaches swimming lessons on Father’s Day? Why weren’t they getting the briquettes ready? If Caroline is anything like her father, then she will never forgive you and of course bring it up at every opportunity until you die. Karma
[Reply]
Ben Reply:
June 22nd, 2009 at 2:24 pm
Dear Grandmother,
Taking your seven year old child to a foreign country and forcing him to attend a school where no one speaks his language to the point that he feels physically ill and goes to school in tears every morning is not the same as missing a swimming lesson. Just so you know.
(I told you I wouldn’t put up with any shinanigans from you. Behave!)
[Reply]
You’re growing on me, Mr. H.
[Reply]
NO, regret and guilt would have come if you’d bought that plush m&m instead of the car for Caroline.
[Reply]