The Mets won this morning and Money in the Bank was a dumpster fire. Those two things balance each other out. Brunch was fantastic; I ate a bunch of ahi sashimi and saved just enough room for bread pudding with two scoops of vanilla ice cream. But, as you are aware, the real highlight of Father’s Day – the thing I wait all year for – is Madison’s fill-in-the-blank answers to Lynnette’s questions about me. Here are Mad’s answers. She’s 9:
This first laugh-out-loud answer is the “always side-combed” remark about my hair. She did me a solid there considering she’s the person who sees me most frequently without any kind of product in my hair. I don’t know when the answers to the 4th and 5th questions will ever change. I suppose it’s possible, but highly unlikely.
She’s way more specific about my job, and the “Double Quarter Pounders, no pickles” answer caused me to nearly swear, because it is (cue the Metallica) SAD BUT TRUE! The real gems, of course, are the two references to grammar. I supposed it’s embarrassing to be called out for calling out people (9-year olds) on their grammar, but I know that somewhere Papa Joe is… well, he probably isn’t smiling, but he’s nodding his head.
I didn’t get a really great picture of myself with the kids. I took a few, but no one’s looking, one or two of them are screaming, and the oldest one argues with me about her eyes being closed because Dad! My eyes are open but it’s super hard to keep them open because the sun! These are high times.
I instead opted to post this picture of my three children because of all the photos snapped today, it’s the one that most resembles our summer days together. This summer is easier than the last. The twins are a little older. We can do more things together. While many things rarely ever go as planned, there have been no real disasters – things just are what they are. We missed a week of summer because we thought Madison caught the mumps. We waited over a week for the test results, then on the 9th day we were told that the lab botched her sample in transit. As in 9 days before they called us. But, since Mad didn’t exhibit any other symptoms, her doctor thinks it was likely just a bacterial infection that resolved through antibiotics. The highlight of this 9-day quarantine was making dad joke puns at Madison’s expense about the mumps. “I can’t wait until Wednesday, because then it’ll be mump day,” I said. “Why do cars slow down on the road, Madison?” Lynnette asked. “WHY?!” Madison groaned. “Speed mumps.” It went on like this. Madison was salty. But, she hasn’t dropped any of her own terrible puns on us since, so I feel like it was worth it.
Fatherhood is nothing I thought it would be. Being a father of three isn’t a test of skill as much as it is a test of will, of patience. Did I think that I would be making horrible puns about my daughter potentially contracting mumps? No. Did I think I would scream “CUBBY CANDY!” and “GRAVY BOAT!” at the top of my lungs in reference to living human beings? No. Did I think I would ever in my life need to my ass and limited lateral quickness to box out two toddlers from my dog’s feces on the carpet while waiting for my wife to clean it? I can’t say that I did. But I did. Just today. Every day is the most monotonous dishwashing, diaper-changing triviality blended with the most random, ridiculous, hilarious, heart-warming nonsense I’ve ever experienced. Thank you, Madison, Cole, and Avery, for bringing an innocent joy to my life that I had not known since I was a kid myself.