Sunday, June 21, 2015

Father's Day

Father's Day

First of all, Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.

OK, maybe not to the dads who checked out on their kids before the smell of diapers left the bin behind the door in the spare bedroom.

And maybe not to the dads who hung around but who spent their years not really being around because they were too busy getting drunk most nights and watching television on the weekend.

Certainly not to the dads who believed that a 2X2 piece of pine was an instructional tool designed to teach their kids to behave or to the dads who couldn't be bothered with a hunk of wood and just used their hands or fists to brutalize the hell out of everything and everyone around them.

And maybe I'll skip sending my best to those dads who hated life and through conscious brainwashing taught their kids to hate life as well.

Gay dads? Please ... an oxymoron. They made their choice, and I just wish they would live by it.

Oh yeah, one more exception. To those "dads" who aren't really "dads" but who, through the gift of divorce, have decided to step into the role of "dad," screw off.

No, really, just screw the hell off.

There's a reason no one wanted your children, so quit trying to take over a real dad's kids.

I'm not referring to all the great step-dads who understand their minuscule place in the life of another man's child, but to those guys who twist kids into thinking they're "a better dad than the real dad," back up, back off, back away from screwing up a young mind for the rest of the poor kid's life.

Other than those exceptions, I think I'm good.

Fatherhood is a good gig, if you can get it. Not every man wants to be a father, and I can understand that. The support payments alone are a killer, but that's another story.

Still, it's a rare privilege to watch your children grow, and most fathers marvel at how kids change by leaps and bounds every second weekend. Well, don't fret about that visitation stuff. I've been there and done that, and it's not so bad. OK, Sunday evenings at McDonald's can rip your heart out, but what the hell? Kids grow up, and, eventually, they know what's what.

My son and daughter are adults now with kids of their own. I'm not one of those doting grandfathers, so I might see them once a month or so. Hey, they have lives of their own these days, and so do I.

So, once again, Happy Father's Day to most of the dads out there.

© Copyright, Kennedy James. All rights reserved.



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