Well another Father’s Day has come and gone and those of us lucky enough to have kids are probably still recovering from all the extra special Dad “lovin” that we received. I just wanted to take a moment to talk about my day, I promise this will be a short post as my boys just got in bed 5-minutes ago and the ninth trip to the bathroom that just went down normally signals the beginning of the “Ultimate Fighting” championship that they engage in every evening right about this time. I can all most set my watch by the screams for medical attention that normally occur at 8:22.

So what happened in the Groah household on “Shane Day”? Surprisingly I was able to get down a half cup of coffee before Mack arose and opened the festivities. He walked down the stairs looking like the Grand Marshall of the Macy’s Day Parade; at that moment I knew the day would be chalk full of Dad like activities. We started off the morning with a quick scan of the TBS/TNT action movie agenda. We knew we only had a short amount of time before it would become to dangerous to record completely inappropriate movies, so we made our selections quickly and with cat-like TIVO reflexes set them to record at a later time. When Connie walks down the stairs next week to find Mack watching “Die Hard with a Vengeance” I know I will be able to deny any involvement with enough sincerity to throw here off my trail.

Right about the time we finished fishing for action movies Cayden came down the stairs. Cayden sauntered in wearing his big boy lounge pants and no shirt. If he had muscles I am sure they would be rippling, but muscles have yet to appear on my youngest boy, so like every time I see him bare chested I found myself subconsciously counting his ribs, I got to 17 before he gave me a hearty “Happy Fathers Day Dad!”. The kid was really pleased with himself for remembering and his smile was enough to warm my heart.

When Connie got up the boys went into present giving mode. If you don’t have kids let me explain something, the only thing kids like more than getting presents is giving them. I still cannot figure out how they contained themselves until Connie woke up, but some how they did. So here is what I got:

Cayden gave me a card that he made himself. I think he had a little help with the words and spelling but the pictures were 100% Cayden. On his card I was represented by a short blue blob with an unusually large balloon like head. My arms appeared to be made of Marshmallows and I only had 3 fingers, 2 on one hand and 1 on the other. If the picture was drawn to scale then my 6-foot long legs were strangely disproportionate to my torso which was approximately 6-inches long.

Cayden’s depiction of himself was much more flattering. He was a good 6-feet taller than me and he was either holding my hand or ripping my arm out of the socket, I can’t get him to say which it was. His face had a nose, 2-eyes, and a mouth. My picture had one giant eye right below what appeared to be a zipper. If I ever wondered what caused night terrors in children I now know, my boy thinks I look like a Frankenstein/ grasshopper hybrid that was in a bad car accident.

Mack also presented me with a card. His card was a bit more sophisticated; he actually did all of the spelling and even came up with the content. If you have read anything that I have written you know that Mack can be a bit eccentric, my card would confirm your suspicions. Instead of giving me a bland “Happy Fathers Day, I love you” Mack wrote the following:

“These Guns are Lethal!”.

Next to this catchy little phrase was a picture of what appeared to be an arm. I know this because unlike Cayden’s picture the arm was attached to a hand with at least 9 fingers. If only Mack would have shared a couple of digits with his brother the first picture would have been significantly more becoming. The arm also had 6-giant lumps on it. Knowing my oldest as well as I do I knew that these lumps represented muscles, he confirmed my insight by kissing his own biceps as I read the card aloud. Mack loves to jack the steel (lift weights for those of you who do not have a taste for the iron game) and his card was a way of saying that his Dad had really big muscles, which most men would agree is an excellent compliment.

Those two cards were the highlight of my Father’s Day. I am smart enough to realize that in a few short years my kids will be too cool to make cards for their old man. Before I know it I’ll start receiving industrial sized vats of “English Leather” or “Brute” and will no longer get things made with their own little hands (all of which have 4-fingers and a thumb). These are without a doubt the best years to be a Dad on Fathers Day.