Father's Day

Poor Dave.

Since I was put on bed rest last Tuesday, he has been working extra hard (to make sure that I am not.) And Father's Day was no exception. He got up first thing with Clio, did breakfast, ran to the grocery store, took Clio to swimming and then a birthday party (in the rain), came home and collapsed on the couch. I did manage to make some lunch for all of us but thus fed, the Daddy got a second wind and got us a new cell phone (good bye, Motorola Startac, c. 2001) sorted the laundry, worked on his motorcycle, bundled us all off to the playground, got Clio home and down for the night, cleaned up the lunch dishes and made dinner.

Meanwhile, I went to the video store to load up on early seasons of Grey's Anatomy (I'm outing myself) and to pick up a copy of Hellboy, the movie Dave really wanted to see. On the way home, I tried to find some frozen fruit bars for this deserving Dad (we had just been reminiscing about getting them all the time in Park Slope).

When I got home, I realized that I had rented Hellboy ANIMATED, which is apparently not the same thing, and because I walked home very very slowly, the fruit popsicles I had bought in substitute for the real froz-fruit were melted anyway.

In hindsight, I don't think poor Dave even got to change his clothes, and spent the day in Saturday's shorts and T-shirt.

Poor Daddy.

I'll tell you this, though. Maybe Father's Day is supposed to be about Father's getting their due, being a little pampered, receiving gifts. For me, this Father's Day just went to prove that Dave is about the best Dad around; Clio may still take it for granted, but I appreciate the devotion and hard work 150%.