Today was Father's Day, so natually I was treated to what the typical American father experiences: I let my wife sleep and I got up with the boy around 7:30. I wasn't really motivated to do anything, as I felt it was my holiday, so I relegated myself to only washing two loads of dishes. I read for a good twenty minutes, too. Then my brother, the boy, the dog and I went out to this place called "The Moon". I don't think i's officially called that. It's just a a semi-hidden area in the middle of town on top of a high hill with a pretty incredible view. Then we came home, I ate a quick, late lunch, and we went up to Ward Lake for a walkabout. Malcolm had a good time running up and down the trails. Dash pulled on the leash, smelled everything, and drained what seemed like a good 2 or 3 gallons to mark some territory.
At home afterwards, the bro grilled up some steak and some asparagus which I matched with some easy shells and cheese. A pretty magnificent meal considering my petty contribution. Now Malcolm's in the bath, and I'm preparing to face an evening followed by the last week of my 20s. While I'm excited to turn 30, I'm not REALLY excited. The closer it gets, the more I realize I'm in the worst shape of my life, mentally and physically, and all I'm doing right now is growing old. (Insert Billy Crystal's speech from "City Slickers" here.)
All in all, Father's Day this year was kind of disappointing. However, the highlight was Malcolm. The highlight of everything is Malcolm. Even if he's in a shitty mood and I've had a shitty day, for whatever reason, he makes me feel needed, and he makes me feel loved, unconditionally, in a way that is totally different from what you feel from your parents, siblings, best friends, or lovers. And to that, I smile as I write and my eyes well up. Happy Father's Day to all you dads who understand how it feels to be a dad.