All I Want For Father’s Day

Wanna hear something funny? I had no idea that this Sunday was Father’s Day till about 10 minutes ago when my wife called and asked me how I wanted to spend the special day. So before I share with you the answer I gave her, let me first tell you why I think I forgot about the big day. There are two reasons, actually. First, I’m not really into Father’s Day. No knock on it, but…I dunno, it’s just not my deal. But, second, Caroline and the kids have been away since last Friday at the beach, so I’ve been flying solo and holidays are one of the things you tend to lose track of when you’re flying solo.

Still, a holiday is approaching, and it’s my holiday at that, so, given that, what do I want for Father’s Day? I want my family back, y’all. It’s been seven days and I’m over it. And I’m over laundry, too. Don’t get me wrong. At first it was great. Lonely, but great, and I was reminded of how great it was here and there. The thunderstorm that couldn’t wake the kids up. The monitors that weren’t constantly filling my ears with static. Or feedback. The NBA games I watched unimpeded. The diapers I never changed. The baths I never administered. The dinners I served myself before serving anyone else. Without serving anyone else.

Yep. It was alright, the whole no-family-for-a-week thing. But part of the reason why it was great was because I was able to talk to everyone on the phone. You know, that way I wasn’t missing them too much. Except, of course, Luke. Because he can’t talk yet. So around Wednesday, I found myself jonsing for my little man. Every time I looked at Briggs, I wondered if he was missing him, too. You know, since they’re BFFs and all. Each time I passed the kitchen sink, I could almost see Luke and his splashy smile, the one he regularly flashes me during his evening bath. And whenever I rubbed my (newly) bearded chin (nervous preoccupation), I half expected — half hoped, even — to feel my little guy yanking at it as he’s wont to do.

It’s funny. The whole reason why I stayed at home is because C has three trips to the beach scheduled for this summer, and there’s just no way I could take that much time. So  I figured I’d forgo the first one primarily because that was the only one of the three weeks that C’s friend could go, and I knew that C would need all the help she could get. But in a perfect world, I would have been there this week and skipped one of the other trips. And the big reason why that would have been perfect is because of Luke.

He’s been to the beach once before — this past February when I took that header picture. But it was cold. And he was only on the beach for, quite literally, ten minutes. Tops. So this trip would have been his first true beach trip. The first one where he could crawl around and cram handfuls of sand in his mouth. The first one where he could have watched all the suntanned passersby with wide-eyed wonder. The first one where he could put his tiny feet in the water while daddy held his hands above his head.

So I missed it. My infants first dance with the sea.

So I missed it. The windblown hair. The fair cheeks-turned pinker with the loving help of SPF 50. The squinty eyes. The sagging swimming diaper poking out of his adorable suit. And I’m sad about it.

But my crew will be back in just a couple of hours. And I can’t wait to hear all about their trip. Because, believe me, I have a million questions for each of them. Only Luke won’t be able to answer the questions I have for him. So he’ll just have to show me the answers on the next trip which will be coming up before we know it.

And I can wait till then, I suppose. Especially if my little guy, along with his siblings, can hang tight with me this Sunday. Happy Father’s day to all you dads out there. Particularly the newer ones. Enjoy your day.

And embrace your blessings.

This post is spon­sored by Dis­ney Baby. I’ll be join­ing the Dis­ney Baby blog­ging team this month, and look for­ward to shar­ing these kinds of sto­ries with you over there! Stay tuned for more details!

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About john cave osborne

John Cave Osborne is a writer whose work has appeared on such sites as DisneyBaby, Babble, YahooShine, TLC and the Huffington Post. He was also referenced by Jezebel one time, but he’s pretty sure they were making fun of him. He and his wife, Caroline, live with their five children and spastic dog in Knoxville, TN. Nothing annoys him more than joke-heavy bios written in the third person, with the possible exception of Corey Feldman.

  • muskrat

    I remember overhearing someone in May saying all she wanted for Mother’s Day was a day without her children.  I wish I could remember who it was, so I could forward this post to her!