The Light in the Refrigerator

There's a poem by Erma Bombeck that compares a dad to the light in the refrigerator, claiming that every house has one but no one knows what either of them do when the door is shut. I read this poem several times with my classes of pre-AP sophomores discussing tone and word choice, but ultimately, it always made me reflect on the dad I have. Luckily, I don't have a refrigerator light kind of dad. My dad took me on walks letting me jabber away about what I was learning at school, we went for donuts on weekend mornings, he let me come to work with him and answered as many questions as I could ask, we played on-the-spot trivia games (if I only could have remembered the capital of Vermont!), he told me jokes, we devotedly watched Coach together, he let me have soda when I wasn't "technically" suppose to, he let me tag along on business trips and wasn't embarrassed when I puked from eating too many chocolate-covered strawberries on the concierge floor, and he taught me about friendship, respect and loyalty.

You would think that with a great dad I would have been hyper-sensitive to the type of dad I would want my future child to have, but to be honest, I'm not sure I ever really gave it a thought. John and I met when I was 16 and started dating when I was 17. I can assure you that at the age of 17 I wasn't considering if this guy would turn into a great dad. I knew John was kind, smart, thoughtful, loyal, funny, and loving. I knew I wanted him to meet my family. I knew I wanted to stay together when he went off to college. I knew I should make an effort to find a job in Austin even though I was set on moving back to Dallas. And I knew when he asked me to marry him that I was the luckiest. But still with all these certainties I never once pondered what kind of dad he would be. When I would balk at the idea of having kids, John was always the one dismissively remarking, "Come on, we're gonna have kids." And I knew he was right. How could we not?

When we found out I was pregnant (and the shock wore off), John and I could be found literally high-fiving about how awesome we were going to be at this parenting thing (wild and naive confidence!), and so I guess in the back of my mind, it was just a given: he was going to be a great parent because he is a great person. But nothing quite prepared me for actually experiencing him be an awesome dad. From day one, John jumped in with both feet. He loves on Charlie with all his being and delights in the little, seemingly insignificant moments with his new son. Listening to him sing the theme song of Charles in Charge (the words actually work quite well with a new baby) to Charlie or watching him give Charlie his bath makes my heart swell. When he walks in the door and immediately starts talking to Chuck about how much older he looks than when he left for work, I almost can't believe that this is the same guy I fell in love with all those years ago. Without hesitation, John's found a way to be an amazing, hands-on parent and is working ridiculously hard to make all the dreams we have for our new family a reality. Charlie and I are more than blessed because we have him to take care of us. And fortunately, Charlie has a dad that is every bit as interested, involved and dedicated as the dad I am fortunate enough to have, and for that, I could not be more grateful.

So here's to all the first-time dads, the seasoned vets, the grandpas and everything in between. Happy Father's Day!