It’s Father’s Day tomorrow.
Some of my kids hate me.
Some love me.
Maybe a couple like me.
Honestly, I’m not that concerned.
I’m not 100% at fault by a long shot.
They could have gotten a lot more out of me.
(Of course ranting at my sons last year and pointing out that neither of them could run a chain saw, drive a clutch, build a house or plow a driveway just got me that confused WTF look. I now own enough .22s, shotguns, wrench sets, jointer planes, crosscut saws & Yankee screwdrivers to leave each of them a pretty good survival kit; with which they could fall through the ice before they figure out it’s uses. They will each get a Rolex and one will sell it, one will lose it and one will save it and wear it on occasions. But then my Dad never taught me to use any of those tools.I may as well leave them Masonic Runes.)
My sons would much prefer that I’d mastered the big titted fancy Mommy, oversized watch & Escalade lifestyle.
My daughter, like all women remains an enigma.
Hell, how can they even know me when I’m barely rediscovering myself.
Or inventing me.
Hopefully before it’s over they will appreciate me and I’ll appreciate them.
I’m reminded of the epiphany I had with my Father…..
He wouldn’t listen to me when I was 16 and knew everything, why should he listen to me when I ‘m 46 & don’t know shit…
- Will you Wish Barack a Happy Father’s Day? (themadjewess.com)