“You know why you’re a great dad?”
He took a sip of his coffee and raised his eyebrows. “No. Why?”
“Because every single time I’ve needed you, you were there.” He continued to look at me.
“When I have car trouble, I call you and you calm me down, tell me what to do. Something goes wrong with my house, my front door, I don’t feel well, I’m having a bad day, whatever, you always have an answer.”
“I don’t always have the answer…”
“Fine. You have the answer, or within the next ten minutes I get an email from you with a link. Or someone’s number. Or a how-to video from Youtube.”
“I’m just trying to help. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
I took a bite of my omelet.
“You accept me for who I am. You support me in my decisions, my art, my stories, you back me up, you want to celebrate with me when I have success, and even when I fail.”
“I just try to do what I can. I don’t do that much.”
“Ha! Whenever I have a project, you figure out all of the details. If I stop by, you offer me whatever food you made the other day. Or some extra fruit and vegetables you picked up at the produce place. Or whatever.”
He continued eating.
“You joke with me when I need you to, or when I don’t. Well, pretty much all of the time. You call me when you want to talk sports, which is a pretty big deal considering none of my friends do that and I need someone to discuss hockey with. You ask me about the oil in my car, how my house is doing, what my day has in store for me, how work is, everything.”
He looked up and gave me that look he always gives me when I’m only partially making sense to him.
“What the hell are you trying to say?”
“Can’t you tell? I love you. And happy father’s day.”