As I was thinking of what I’d like to write about in a deep dive about another Father’s Day that’s come upon us, I get a text message from Alex with the image I’ve attached to this post.
If I’m honest, it’s job done thanks to him!
Dead set..how can I improve on just how amazingly he’s captured the entire experience in just one meme?
The kids are hanging all over Homer like barnacles on a boat with Bart doing the purple nurple thing, Lisa’s going for the choke hold, and the baby seems to be caressing a head that hair is increasingly afraid to ever be seen upon ever again.
But you’ve got to admit that the true chef’s kiss is the look on Homer’s face that speaks enough volumes that the Encyclopaedia Britannica would be absolutely jealous at it’s size.
Yep, we’re done here! Nothing more to see and you fine citizens may go about your business.
Well, I would be if it weren’t for that last little bit in white with the black outlining round the letters at the bottom of the image.
That would be where Alex’s true genius is coming through loud and clear and he seems to have put his finger right on the pulse of the matter.
Because no matter what else may come, there is truly nothing that matters more in this world to me than to hear that phrase from them and get a hug or an epic eyeroll depending on the kid I’m dealing with and in that moment, the rest of the world can go get stuffed for all I care.
Through the years, I’ve had many jobs and done many exciting and adventurous things (some of which you will never, ever see on a resume!).
I’ve had jobs that when I was done, I could look back upon them with satisfaction if not a bit of pride.
I’ve had others that leaving for something new (whether by choice or by layoff) was like being granted parole from a custodial sentence at a labour camp of strict regime.
But there were precious few jobs during my few decades upon this Earth that came close to approaching the joy from the one position that I had relatively little training and certainly no licence or certificate or demonstration of competence and proficiency but in a curious quirk of the universe, I was the only one who exactly matched the qualifications necessary for the job.
That would be the privilege of being a father to three really awesome human beings who through the years have melted my heart, twisted me round their little fingers, driven me to the edge of madness, occasionally managed to stay awake as I was trying to teach them something important, given the half-hearted (if not less!) laughs at my jokes, and not actually thrown tomatoes at me as I’m singing duets with the playlists blasting through the speakers in the Traverse that is constantly locked to WFOX.
Two of the three have graduated from high school and are finding their own way in this world.
Nicholas is turning wrenches at Toyota by day and shooting hockey pucks in his beer league hockey teams at night and I’ve never seen him happier or more content.
Enloe’s lastest Eagle to fly the nest is going to be flying off to Campbell University where she’ll trade her wings for a camel’s hump as she works her way toward becoming a trial lawyer.
And in a couple of years time, Alex will have his time walking across the stage and only time will tell what he will do in this world.
In the midst of all that, I couldn’t be prouder of these three who call me by the one job title that’s ever mattered a darn to me…father.
They are my heart and soul and at the end of my days, I can only hope that I’ve earned the privilege of being remembered by them much as one of my favourite British actors of all time Paul Eddington wished to be remembered:
I think that would suit me very well indeed. 🙂