For something like four years, my Mom let me give my Dad the same gift for Father's Day: A badminton racquet I dug out of a storage closet in my bedroom. I thought it was the coolest gift. I'm not sure if she was trying to make me look like an asshole or if she thought it was cute. Either way, she let me give him a gift I selected and gave from the heart. And, it was real. She didn't go out to Hess's (now I'm dating myself) and buy some aftershave or a sweater "from" me. She left me up to my own devices.
Poor, Dad. To his credit, he acted surprised and thanked me profusely each and every year. And, then the racquet went back into the closet for me to dig out the following year. (You'd think he would have learned and just trashed the raquet. But, he probably would have gotten a mop or a broom the next year instead...)
As Father's Day rapidly approached this year, I decided to employ my Mom's gift-giving strategy. I let the kids decide what to give, how to wrap it and hell, even when to give it. The result was perfect since we're an imperfect family.
After I explained to the Doobies that the gift was for Dad and not for them, the real brainstorming began. 30 seconds later, it was decided: Chess and Tic-Tac-Toe. 30 seconds later it was also decided that Madan will go to Harvard and that Kaila had better stay cute.
The kids also decided that Saturday would be Father's Day. I wasn't prepared, but they took care of that, too, using my Berkshire blanket to wrap the present and their handmade cards which made no sense (To Madan, Love Dad, 0000000 and I love Kaila).
And, to Mike's credit. He acted surprised (genuinely, b/c it was Saturday) and profusely thanked the kids. He's now been playing chess with Madan Kasparov for 24 hours.
So, here's to all you Dads who have had to endure four years of regifted badminton racquets and self-serving gifts like chess. You are the best. Because who else would put up with such crap?
Happy Farter's Day!
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