father.

when i was much (much) younger,
i thought having children with someone would be the best idea.
and i mean, like, the best ever.
and not because i think dads are actually any good,
and not even because i wanted to be a dad....
i just thought it was a surefire way to keep a partner with me.
y'know?
combining ingredients to cooperatively create a new thing.
that sort of makes the person you're with yours forever.
...or so i believed at the time.
yeah.
i know.
i honestly thought that in my dumb little brain.
for real.
so,
imagine my surprise when i realized that all i'd managed to do
was create an eternal infernal deal-with-the-devil pact,
anchoring a chunk of my time and energy to someone who didn't
(and still doesn't) like anything at all about me.
man.
good thing we've got those kids, huh?
ha.
that particular piss-and-vinegar-and-oil-and-gasoline solution
has never provided a viable solution to anything.
and don't misunderstand me here-
i am absolutely full-blown 'tarded for harvest and maple,
and i can't imagine my life without 'em;
but damn if i can't imagine them here every day either.
ugh.
that's a blisteringly hard style.
part-time expert dad,
part-time largely-ceremonial figurehead.
ugh.
the behind-the-scenes fatherhood sh!t is neither flashy nor exciting,
but it's all really happening,
affecting every decision i make every day,
and compelling me to be the best version of myself at the expense
of all my expensive tastes and all my expansive plans.
so,
that's the trade-off-
and i'm providing fatherly advice that regular dads don't,
and i'm taking good care,
i'm dispensing dollars and sense and cents and scents,
and doing what i can to be a part of their lives,
to fill in the blanks and span the gaps wherever i'm needed.
and in exchange for being a dad,
i get a homemade card:

what?
a quick note,
a dropped-off drop of crayola drips,
and it's done.
that's a thing.
*
i get a whole day dedicated to the idea that i provided DNA
to the personmaking potluck in someone's pants over a decade ago.
but,
i'll not be spanning it with those girls.
they're in connecticut, and vermont (camping),
and nowhere near here.
great.
moms get brunch and flowers,
dads might get a phone call.....maybe.
fathers day is the worst one;
never quiet, never soft.....