Guest Interview from the Man Cave for Father’s Day

Since everyone is always crowing about what a great dad Tim is. I thought, what better way to confirm such, but from his own two boys.

Here’s the transcript of my interview with Henry and Max.

Henry: Hi Mom. Why are you down here?

Mom: I just had the best idea. I was trying to write a post for Father’s Day – and since you two lamoes haven’t done anything yet – I thought you could write a guest post for Dad.

Max: No we can’t.

Mom: Fine. Turn off that game. And I’ll interview you and write it down for the post.

(Henry and Max are sitting, legs stretched in front of them on the sofa, controllers in hand playing a very loud, somewhat explosive, video game in the Man Cave, aka basement.)

Both boys: Murmur murmur murmur.

Max: Can we do it later?

Mom: No.

Henry: Actually. This is a really good idea. What do you want us to say?

Mom: Pause that game for a minute.

(The game is paused. While somehow the sound remains and things continue to explode.)

Mom: Just let’s brainstorm stuff about dad.

Max: He foods us.

Henry: Yeah. He makes dinner all the time.

Max: He smells nice.

Mom: I’m going to write exactly what you say you know.

Max: Uh oh. Are you going to write that Dad drives like a Nancy?

Mom: Yes.

Max: How about that he loves us.

Mom: That’s a good one.

Henry: He got us Rhapsody. Rhapsody is the best.

Max. And Guitar Hero when I was 3. That’s why we’re so into music.

Henry: Yeah. He’s why we play. Even though he can’t play anything himself.

Max: Yeah. That’s pretty awesome. He makes us practice no matter what.

Henry: How about all the sports stuff he does for us?

Max: Yuh. All the catch and frisbee and soccer in the front yard.

Mom: I can throw just as well as he does.

Max: Not really mom.

Mom: Fine. Keep going.

Henry: He get’s us all the awesome houses for Spring Break.

Max: What about Fat Bastard?

Mom: Like I said. Writing it all down.  Austin Powers. Monty Python. Space Balls. You would not be watching those if it weren’t for your dad.

Max: That’s good. Can we be done?

Mom: What do you think?

Max: End with how much he loves us.

Henry: Yeah. That’s perfect.

(Without a beat. The video gaming is resumed.)

I’m Me. Me Changes.

So. I was talking with my Dad the other day. Have you ever been pigeon-holed? People assume you are something, because of something they assume?

Well, that’s my Dad.  The me he knows and loves is stuck somewhere in the late 70’s.

The late 70’s were such a long time ago. And since then, I am happy to report, I have matured and changed a great deal. If nothing else, I definitely have a much better haircut and an infinitely more sophisticated wardrobe.

And yet. Talking with my dad, he still relates to me as if I were 14 years old.

I would like to say this is charming or amusing. It is not. (Maybe for others.) For me it is (more than mildly)  annoying (depending on my mood.)  But it is what it is, and I am loath to do anything to change it. Believe me, I have tried.

So? Why bring this up?

Because, we humans have the capacity to change. We have the capacity to evolve. To grow, to learn, to inspire, to achieve, to lead, to adapt. To make mistakes and learn from them. And move on. Whatever your path may be, it is ever evolving. If you let it.

Nonetheless. There are people who don’t want to see you change. They like the little girl that you were. Or the easy-going friend, or the partier, or whoever you were then.

But. Who does that serve? You? Probably not.

My dad is very comfortable with me as his little girl. I know in his heart of hearts he wants more for me, but that’s who he sees me as, and how he relates to me. That’s where he is.

And so. I grit my teeth, and know that he loves me and his grandkids and son-in-law. And I know he’s telling all his cronies how proud he is of the news that I dutifully report.

Still, when I hang up the phone after our conversation, I’m a little mad. Frustrated that he can’t see me for who I’ve grown to be.  Because I know if he could. He would be even more proud.