It is Father’s Day.
I am inspired to write a post on the weekend, when I am normally on full time crumb patrol and lego clean-up duty. As I sit here now, the father of my children is trying desperately to pacify our son with one iPad download after another and my daughter is deftly aggravating everybody by casually letting her older brother know each time she advances to a new level on Angry Birds. She is about 20 levels ahead of him and he is never going to make any progress unless he can stop screaming long enough to play the game.
I’ve got five minutes.
I should be dashing out to Whole Foods to buy some cake and organic greeting cards so that we can have a proper celebration when my inlaws arrive. I should be unloading the dishwasher or encouraging my children to get dressed now that it is almost lunchtime. I also need to pay some overdue bills and buy a few birthday presents. And take a shower. And clean out my closet.
If you are reading this, I know that you have at least this many items on your “to-do” list. Add “clean up after the dogs” and “Dictate 3 hours worth of charts.” “Go to book store.”
One of my Dad’s defining attributes is that he is always in motion. Like me, he is always trying to do a million things at once, and never quite finishing anything (except, again like me, several cups of coffee). A sentimentalist, rationalist, pianist, flautist, neurologist, chief warden of the church, he volunteers to walk his home-bound neighbor’s dog, and still manages to find time to drive my mother crazy.
My dad is also a man who unloads the dishwasher. How I love him!
In five minutes, I can’t adequately describe what a great dad and what a great man he is. I really would need a lifetime to do that. So I gotta’ run dad.
I, like you, have bitten off a little more than I can chew.
I love you!
(And mom, I love you, too. Why else do you think I was so quick to get that last post of my front page?!)