Sarge asked me yesterday, in between foot rubs and feeding him grapes, whether I was going to post an obligatory Father's Day post. I told him no, I was too busy taking care of him to have time for that. And my hands were cramped from all the foot rubs.
Honestly, I think he had a good day - the kids each made him something as a gift. The oldest and I went to a craft store and made a snap-together police car model. The youngest and I made him blueberry muffins and the middle one and I made her "special chocolate chip cookies" - the recipe I've always used, but even Sarge says that the cookies have gotten better since she started helping me. It must be the eggshells she adds. And the boogers.
But the best part was that I cleaned up the kitchen and bathed the kids and put them to bed. It's my theory that the best way to spend the day honoring your parenthood is to be given the day off.
It would have been perfect if only the roof hadn't leaked and there wasn't a puddle in the corner of our bedroom. Maybe next year.