My kids and I celebrate Father’s Day for the first time in three years. We acknowledge the day, do something for it. There’s an excited exchange of presents first thing in the morning, a family dinner in the evening.
It’s bizarrely unexpected, by The Most Amazing Man and myself. I had thought-as had he- that this would be a quiet day; one we slid into and bumped out of, glad that it was over.
But my children, to my continual surprise and amazement, have other ideas.
It’s not something I’ve ever mentioned to them, and certainly not something I’ve pushed for. But my son’s flawless five year old logic kicks in when making Father’s Day gifts at school. “I can give this to the Most Amazing Man.” He tells me matter of factly. “Because we are living with him now, so he’s kind of like our dad.”
I can’t argue with that. I don’t even want to.
The Bump is easily swayed by her brother’s opinions. Once his actions give her the green light, she becomes an accomplice to the celebrations. We start a small pile of school-made cards, hidden in a kitchen drawer, and they grow exponentially as the weekend grows closer.
Sunday morning is a flurry of cards and presents, of over-excited children. It’s a whole new experience for the The Most Amazing Man.
It’s entirely lovely, completely gratifying. Watching everything fall into its place… right now, it feels too good to be true.
Sunday lunchtime, The Most Amazing Man mows the back lawns of The New House. The grass is thick kikuyu, and it’s easier to just remove the catcher from the lawn mower completely, rather than emptying it every two minutes.
As a result, there are grass clippings flying through the air, catching and swirling in the breeze.
The Bump giggles uncontrollably. “Most Amazing Man!” she laughs. “Just look at what you are doing to our world!!”
That seems to be the most fitting statement, for all of it.
Most Amazing Man… just look at what you are doing, to our world.