Ah, what a Father’s Day!
Up at 6am, waking to the smell of Moira’s French Toast fritters along with her homemade asiago and chive scones. A rousing bout of Don’t Break The Ice and Cootie with Jake and Maxine, still in their pajamas. A nice long soak in the bubble bath, dressing in a hand-tailored linen suit topped off with a hula girl tie and then off to the Summer Solstice festival for pagan revelry and a vibe so positive it could keep me from getting health insurance due to a pre-existing condition. Afterwards, super soakers in the garden, a picnic lunch of taters, slaw and beans, and a quick dip in the neighbors’ backyard-deck hot tub (they’ll never know). Then, it was presents a-plenty and gifts galore from my nearest and dearest: a Potty Putter, The Apple Dumpling Gang Rides Again on Blu-ray, a gift certificate to the Piercing Pagoda, a signed copy of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, an onion blossomer and the patented Norwegian fashion must – Socks-N-A-Basket. Such are the spoils of daddyhood. But, the best was yet to come as the kids were carted off to mom and dad’s, giving Moira and I the chance to renew our vows in a very private ceremony involving crystals, body glitter, a Whee-Lo and some scrumptious dark chocolate fondue.
Y’know, it almost tops that Father’s Day in ’99 when I was kidnapped at gunpoint, bound and gagged, and treated to the Ice Capades with the in-laws and Dan Cortese.
Hey. I said “almost.”