Friday was actually the moment of truth for the weekend. The women of the house were lobbying to go out for dinner. It’s also a Father’s Day tradition they take me out on the Sunday feast, so Mr. Balanced Budget made an offer. I would take them out for pizza (cheers from the young miss) in return for a home-cooked/prepared meal on Sunday. My family, never one to delay gratification, opted for pizza.
My wife mentioned before bed last night that our daughter took her aside and said, index finger pointing like a Sword of Damocles, “You are going to help me fix Dad’s dinner. I’m not doing it by myself.”
I said I’d be fine with oven-baked (it’s a pouring-rain weekend in central Iowa) chicken or even hot dogs, as long as I got a nice salad and a potato. What could be easier than that?
“What do you want for Father’s Day?”
I brought up the home-cooked meme weeks ago. I knew that if they asked where I really wanted to go for restaurant fare, I’d opt for Thai (way too spicy (wife) and weird (daughter) for them) or Indian (okay with the young miss, but upsetting to my wife’s sensitive stomach). For a while it looked like I was going to have to concede something in the middle–like Mexican or Chinese.
Usually they get me a dvd–a nature or astronomy documentary. A sf movie. If it stays hotter than you-know-what today, and if no dvd is forthcoming, maybe I’ll pull out Miracle. Nothing like hockey heroism to take the sting out of a summer day.
One thing I would love for Father’s Day is one day free from the victim mentality. Like here or here or here. Whining is not masculine, if you’ll permit me to say it. Just like I laughed at the Flintstones when I was a kid, I can’t suppress a snicker when I hear the complaint about the Big Bad Media conspiring with those naughty feminists to emasculate fathers by their portrayal on tv and in the movies. Where have these people been? Men have been played as buffoons since the Bible, and even Biblical heroes have their embarrassing moments.
For most men, Father’s Day will be a reflection on the care and concern they put into fathering, guiding, and loving their children. It’s a good day to reflect on the bounty imaged in Psalm 128:
… Like olive plants your children around your table.
I wonder what my little olive plant will cook up for dinner. That’s her, with me, at the top of the post, in one of our favorite pictures together.