Father's Day

My Father’s Day began about 1:15 this morning with Phoebe stumbling into our bedroom and throwing up on the carpet. Mixed vegetables. … And I got the duty of cleaning the mess.

I was awakened again around 8 with Phoebe crawling into bed with Kates and me. Kates was up a few minutes later and getting ready for church. … She was the liturgist this morning, and we had planned to attend worship as a family. But the early morning episode with Phoebe changed that, and I stayed home with the girls.

When Kates returned from church, she and Phoebe gave me my Father’s Day cards. I finally opened the Father’s Day gift Phoebe had made me during her last days of preschool, too. A variation of the infamous Mother’s Day gift she made, Phoebe presented me with a corkboard featuring her handprint surrounded by the words, “My dad likes to play baseball.” Added underneath: “Safe, for a child, is her father’s hand, holding her tight.” … It will have a special place in my new museum some day.

By 11 this morning I was working on my graduate homework for the week. I start my next class tomorrow night, and I had to purchase a $100 textbook that’s nearly as thick as a children’s book.

Somehow I also ended up doing the laundry today. And I cleaned the kitchen. Twice.

I finished my homework around 4. Then I kept my promise to Phoebe and took her to the park. She rode her tricycle and I rode my bike behind her. We had a good time roaming round the playground together. … But then she was so tired that I had to carry her tricycle home. With my bike. While she walked beside me.

At 7, I was kicked out of our living room so the girls could watch “Cupcake Wars” on the Food Network. I paid bills and finished the laundry.

It wasn’t until 8:44 p.m. that I put my feet up to watch Sunday Night Baseball. Cubs-Red Sox tonight. At Wrigley Field.

I was an all-star dad today, and I’m wearing the T-shirt to prove it.

I look forward to a Father’s Day when I don’t feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.