My daddy. You get the point. I’m talking about the men whose sperm made us who we are. The Y-chromosome that got together with the X, to make a zygote. The penis to the vagina. The ying to our yang. The man who sat on his ass while our Moms did all the work…yes sirree, Bob! Who’s your Daddy? Yup, you know it! Its time for my Father’s Day Blog! And no, not all you dads out there sat on your asses, I’m just playing. Jeez. Can’t you take a joke? Some of you actually stepped up and helped raise the kiddos. And worked your asses off. Lots of daddies out there bust your balls bringing home the bacon, so your Baby Mommas can fry it up in the pan! I know my Dad did. Art, you are a ROCKSTAR! My Dad was home every night at 5:30 for dinner. And I remember sitting down, and talking…and sharing stories. We were a family. It was important to my Mom to have that time together. No cell phones, or texting. Back in the day, we actually had to talk to each other. Back in the day. haha. When things were easy. And simple. Jesus. I tried to do that in our house, but it’s just not that way anymore, right? I mean Mark was traveling all the time, and he had to work long hours. Shit. I was lucky if he was home by 7:00 some nights.
But he is a great dad. The best actually, and I always said that. No matter how much I wanted to punch his face in, I always said he was the BEST father. I could leave him for weeks, go on a trip to China, and he would be fully capable of taking care of our boys. Not all women could say that! But I could. Even when the boys were babies, he was awesome. Mark is a kick-ass dad. Not such a killer hubby, but shit…at least he could parent! Which is why we are still co-parenting today. It’s all about the kids. And in our situation, being a good Dad is what is important. And he’s got that in the bag. Although, he did forget to pack Jonah’s Claritin this week for sleepover sport’s camp. But, if that’s the worst thing that he does, I’m ok with it. I made him drive it up. Yes, I did. I freaked the fuck out, and made him haul his ass up to Davidson College…find my boy, and give it to him. Don’t judge me. I’m psycho.
So, today, on Father’s Day…my boys are where they belong. With their Dad. Which is a little weird for me. I know, I should be ok with it because where else should they be? But I am used to celebrating someone. Whether it’s my Dad, or Mark. Or Mark’s Dad…or my Grandpa (may his soul rest in peace) I usually have a Dad to celebrate. I know, it’s not about me. I’m not the important one today. But shouldn’t I be somewhere? I did buy Mark’s gift. It is still my job, at least until the boys can drive. Divorced people, listen to me! I think this is a “repeaty” but whatever. It is still YOUR job to buy the gifts for the other parent! The kids can’t do this for themselves. They don’t have access to vehicles, and they don’t have money! Well, my kids used their own money. We went to Blackhawk Hardware, and got Mark a grill lighter. Oh, and one of those Tree Faces. Have you seen those stupid fucking things? It’s a face that goes on a tree, but looks like part of the tree? Dumb. But they picked it out all by themselves. So, ok! And they picked out cards, and I wrapped it all up.
I think I’m nice that way.
I really don’t think other exes are half as nice as me.
But whatever, its Father’s Day… and Mark is the father of my children. He is the sperm to my egg. The peanut butter to my jelly. The hip to my hop. And we will forever be bonded by our kids. I am going to make a Hallmark Card just for this occasion. I was looking for one at the store, ya know, like Happy Father’s Day, Ex Husband. Or, Happy Father’s Day, Baby Daddy. Why don’t they make those? Shit, I would be a fucking millionaire. I can’t make any money on this blog with no advertising…so, yes! I’m calling Hallmark. Oh, ya…and Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out there. Keep up the good work, and love up your kiddos today! After all, THEY are the reason you are a DAD! ;)
And Art, if you’re reading this…I love you to the moon and back, thank you for supporting me every step of the way. ~ jenny