Father's Day.

My own father passed away over 10 years ago. And for many years after his death, I hated Father's Day. It seemed like each June, the advertisements started coming a little earlier, the AT&T commercials became more maudlin, and the decorations and reminders became more and more garish. The world was trying to remind me of what I had lost and I didn't like it one bit.

So I abstained. I pretended that the holiday didn't exist and just ignored anyone who tried to tell me different.

But now that we have Munchkin, I've found some joy again in Father's Day. Sure, my kid is still too little to really understand what Father's Day is but my husband does go all out for Mother's Day, makes it a big deal for Munchkin and a big deal for me. And when he does, I'm reminded that we're in this whole messing-kid-up-enough-for-therapy thing together and I'm blessed in my choice of a partner. How can I not want to reciprocate?

So Happy Father's Day, CPT Dick. You'll be waking up to some blueberry pancakes and a whole day of no (or at least somewhat muted) nagging. Enjoy it while it lasts!