The League of Extraordinary Gentleman.
Today I’m searching for the definition of “a gentleman.”
Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.
I’d like to have kids. You know, with you.
I can almost see already how it will unfold.
I think our first baby will be a boy. You’ll think that I’ll be thrilled with a son. And I will be. But I’ll also be a little secretly sad that it wasn’t a baby girl to take after you.
I’ll hold him for the first time.
“He’s gorgeous,” I’ll say.
“He really is.”
“He looks just like me! Kidding. He looks like both of us.” I’ll smile and kiss you. “Though he mostly looks like me.”
We’ll get him home.
It’ll come time for the first changing…1 year ago • 2 notes • view comments
I’m your dad.
Man, have YOU lucked out!
(I really hope you have my sense of humour.)
I am going to do my best to be one of those dads who lets their kids figure out who they are. (You know, except for sports. You ARE a Blue Jays fan.)
While I fully expect to remind you of all of these every chance I get, I thought I’d make a list of things I think are very important. Things that I feel will help you become the kind of person I know you’re going to be.
- Be a man, not a guy
- Kindness does not equal weakness
- Defend those who can’t defend themselves. Always.
- Hurtful words stay with the recipient much much longer than with the speaker.
- Don’t do things to impress your friends. They’re mostly morons. Some will grow out of it, but fewer than you’d expect.
- Real peers don’t put pressure.
- Being cool is vastly overrated
- She’s a person. Repeat that for me. She’s a person.
- “Numbers” are for accountants
- Anything less than a RESOUNDING “yes” means no.
- When a woman chooses you, don’t ever take it for granted.
- They can tell when you’re staring
- Hold doors open. For everyone.
- Always make sure your date is walking on the side furthest from traffic
- If you look around and don’t see a sober driver… it’s you.
- If that ship has already sailed, call me.
- Listen to The Stones, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan.
- Listen also to The Tragically Hip, Leonard Cohen and Gordon Lightfoot.
- So much can be gained from being involved in the arts.
- So much can be gained from being involved in sports too.
- If you dry between your toes well, you’ll be less likely to get athlete’s foot.
- When you can afford it, tip 20%.
- Have your sister’s back, but try not to get in her face. Too much.
- Never take sides against the family
- Listen to praise and criticism equally, but don’t put too much stock in either.
- Be curious, but with focus
- Be determined, but with a sense of humour
- No task is beneath you.
- No accomplishment is beyond you.
- You decide who you’re going to be. Don’t let the world try to decide for you.
I’ll do my very best to lead by example, but I’ll always answer any questions you have.
Some of these things I learned from watching. Some I learned from listening.
And some I learned the hard way.
You will too.
But if you stumble, I’ll help you up.
I’m always going to love you.
Kid, I really hope I do as good a job being a dad as you deserve.
I was lucky enough to learn from a good one.
I hope someday you’ll say the same thing.
1 year ago • 6 notes • view comments
Dear Future Wife,
I’ve made lots of promises in these letters to you.
I’ve shown myself to be something of an idealist.
Possibly even a dreamer.
And, frankly, I couldn’t be more pleased with myself for that. (Or for most things I do, really.)
I don’t plan on stopping.
In fact, I think I’ll do it again right now.
See, here’s the thing:
I hope we NEVER stop loving like idiots.
I mean it.
The kids have the flu.
You have a hole in the jammie pants you wear constantly, showing that you haven’t shaved your legs since just around the beginning of time.
We’ll look at each other, mere husks of our former selves.
And we’ll make out.
Misunderstandings. Large and small.
Trouble in the Middle East.
I’ll slap your butt.
And we’ll make out.
Swoony texts out of the blue.
Post-it love notes hanging hither and yon. (Possibly containing ridiculous phrases like “hither and yon.”)
Presents for one of the most important holidays…
Let’s do it.
All of it.
I’ll always have your back, when the world wants to knock you on it.
I’ll fight for you so much more than with you.
I’ll be yours.
People will say it isn’t possible.
Old married couples will scoff and shake their heads smugly.
But I don’t care.
They don’t know.
They don’t know you.
They don’t know about your heart and warmth and beauty and grace.
They don’t know about your smile and sense of humour and loyalty and spirit.
And they don’t know us.
A love like ours won’t age, even as we do.
A love like ours won’t go stale, despite routines and the familiar.
A love like ours will never, ever be taken for granted.
I really mean it.
I promise to always love you like an idiot.
So we’ve got that goin’ for us.
Which is nice.
I’m your dad.
And I’m going to try really hard.
I’ll take you out for ice cream when your mom won’t buy you that dress that costs more than a small car, but that you ohmygoodnessneedsomuch. I’ll tell you that you’re beautiful in anything you wear. You’ll reply “all dads say that.” And I’ll be so thankful that you’re still young enough to think that’s true.
When your best friend Sarah gets invited to the most important sleepover party in the history of mankind and you don’t, I’ll ask you to curl up on the couch next to me to watch baseball. I’ll explain all the intricacies of the game. And by the second inning you’ll have convinced me to switch the channel to some movie where a misunderstood female alien competes with a re-programmed female cyborg for the love of the teenaged Ryan Gosling Jr. And I’ll be thankful that it distracts you from a pain I haven’t (yet) figured out how to shield you from.
There’ll be so many things that keep me awake at night.
I know I have much to learn. But I also have much to teach.
That sometimes he’s not who you think he is.
That sometimes he won’t call. And that it won’t really have anything to do with you.
That you can be absolutely anything you want to be.
That we’ll buy you a pick up truck on your sixteenth birthday mainly because it doesn’t have a back seat.
That when you know, you really know.
That you should never hide how smart you are.
That it’ll hurt me a little when you’ll want to talk to your mom instead of me, but that I’ll understand. (I’ll like talking to her too.)
That my cringe is not a judgement.
Neither is my wince.
That being disappointed for you is not being disappointed with you.
That the world will make you grow up fast enough. You don’t have to try to rush it.
That it gets easier.
And that a father’s love is fully and completely unconditional.
The night of your first date will come. Despite my protests. So many protests.
I’ll do my very best to remember that I’ve taught you right from wrong.
I’ll look at you. I’ll see the baby. I’ll see the little girl. I’ll see skinned knees and runny noses.
I’ll hope you’ll keep my advice in mind. I’ll hope you remember that I’ll go get you if you need me to. Wherever. Whenever.
I’ll hope you took note of how I treat your mom, and demand that from everyone you meet.
I’ll hope you’ll remember just how much I love you.
And your date’s eyes will meet mine, as he takes your hand in his — as I’ve done so many times, crossing streets, stepping over mud puddles and defending you from monsters — and I’ll give him a look that says…
“If you harm her in any way, I’ll DESTROY you, you pimply-faced little shit.”
What? I’m still your father.