The Starving Artist: Chapter 38: Hey Ho, Daddio

20130617-070849.jpgFather’s Day is the second Sunday in June. It’s a special day to celebrate your dad and all of the things you’ve done together and all the fun you’ve had together and all that Daddy-Daughter (&/or Son) stuff that makes your relationship special. Oh and let’s not forget all those lessons on how to be a good person. As a little girl, Daddy is the reason your airplane flies. He’s the strong hand holding yours as you cross the street. He’s the silly tickle monster who has you laughing ’til you cry. Then he grows into a mentor, a leader and a friend.

Dads are a special breed. They putter around garages for hours listening to oldies and tinkering with knicks and knacks. He’s that smiley guy riding his lawnmower. The riding lawn mower he waited to buy until his kids had moved out and no longer cut the lawn as part of their chores. Dad is the guy in the hat. His nose is always sunburned, no matter how often you remind him to put on sunscreen. He’s had the same bathing suit for as long as you can remember. He smells like a dad. Like fresh-cut wood and outside. He takes his favourite Big Lady on special trips to the dump. Her ears flapping out the window the whole drive. There’s always room in his vehicle to pick you up.

He’s the guy who picked you up when your bike wiped out. He’s the guy who told you all those school boys are stupid for not seeing how great you are…or at least are going to be…when you’re a little older. He’s the guy who gives people nicknames. People expect him to make them laugh. And he doesn’t let them down. Dad is the person who taught me how to make others laugh. He also taught me how to recognize they wanted to laugh. And how to steal a joke. He is also the guy who taught me how to put on a brave face. He loves his dogs. He loves to organize. Everything fitting nicely into it’s place. Allotted into its appropriate container, sorted onto it’s shelf and easily accessible. He can McGiver nearly anything with a pen spring and stick of gum.

Dads are superheroes and princes. They are the boss. Dads worry they could’ve given you more. Dads want us to be happy. They want us to be safe. They want us to call more often. I sure am happy there’s a holiday excuse to celebrate together smack in the tail end of springtime, neatly pinned between Easter and Thanksgiving. Family visits growing from Birthdays and Christmas, to include Father’s Day is a happy bonus. Giving me a much-needed reminder to celebrate more often. So, this past weekend, I did just that; I celebrated my Papa B. I also celebrated Bobby Steel, my other Father. On behalf of this blog, I hereby deem this a new Father’s Day tradition: Riding down the highway and catching a couple of giggles together. Plus, it’s kinda nice to remind Dad of what a great job he’s done with me…at least from what I can see.

The Starving Artist: Chapter 38: Hey Ho, Daddio

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