Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to all you butt dumplings.
Mucho respect for the hardest gig there is.
And also the best club there is.

 

I had Father's Day breakfast with my dad for the first time since probably 1988. We ate at Factor's on Pico. Then we went to The Grove and walked around and he bought a shirt and socks from J. Crew and then we went to Barnes and Noble and I bought him Pearlman's new Lakers book even though Pearlman unfriended me on FB because he's so emotional over anything that isn't fawning praise. Anyhoo, it was strange but nice to spend time with my dad on Father's Day. I drove us around in his new Audi. Nice ride.

 

We went to church this morning, then lunch. Then my wife had to drop off my son at weeklong sports camp.

Now I'm relaxing in my recliner, watching golf.

 

Excellent book. Excellent selection. Glad you're back with your family, sir.

I'm back with family, too. But my father and stepfather, the latter of whom was my father figure, are both no longer with us. Enjoy every chance you get with family, folks. Tough to overemphasize this.

 

Honestly… I wish there was no such thing as Father’s Day. I love being a Dad, but my family just does not get the concept.

All I ask for is to eat at a place of my choice and not get roped into doing work. This never happens. Never.

Today I make a 1 pm reservation for lunch. After exercising and walking the dog, I’m the only person with a brain who can check to see if my daughter is awake. Everyone knew that we needed to leave at 12:30. I told everyone the night before. I wake her up at noon and all hell breaks loose. My daughter cannot get ready in 30 minutes. The next 65 minutes is screaming and crying and begging the restaurant to honor our reservation and we will be 5-10 minutes late. They tell me that’s all I get. My daughter is bawling. Mind you. I have not raised my voice or anything. We can still pull this off. I tell my wife I will drop her at the front door and she can get the table while my daughter composes herself. I go and park around the corner with daughter.

Five minutes later my wife walks by the car. She couldn’t find the place. I dropped her 25 feet from the entrance.

I race to the place on foot to get the table.

Mind you, I had to tell my wife to start getting ready just so her ass could be in a car by 12:30.

Food was great.

I come home and nap.

We are going on a road trip Tuesday so the filthy car needs cleaned. Wife says she is doing it this afternoon. She naps instead.

So I agreed to do the floors of the house tomorrow along with my other yard shit and packing shit.

Guess who is vacuuming and cleaning a car today? Me. She even says she can get a vacuum to do the crevices. Are you kidding me? So I’m sweaty and pissed.

Fuck Father’s Day.

I swear to Christ I am never spending Father’s Day in my own home again.

It. Always. Disappoints.

Fucking always.

 

Yikes.

 

Happy Father's Day, anyway?

 

I grill almost every Sunday night. So the Father’s Day rule here is that I go over the top in terms of what I want to make/grill for dinner. But everyone has to eat together with no devices and I play no part in the clean up process.

 

My dad’s been gone for 13 years, so Father’s Day is always sad for me. Every year I try to do something he liked and eat at least one of his favorite foods. It doesn’t take away the sadness but it feels like the right thing to do. It helps that we liked a lot of the same things.

Happy Father’s Day to the dads. Sorry you had such a lousy day, @Scout. Hope the road trip is better than today was.

 

So it was a good day then.

Happy Father's Day!