Why I Am The Best Dad Ever

12 Reasons I am the best dad.

  1. I was not angry when three little girls woke me up way too early and invited me to breakfast with them. (Mother and teenagers are gone for the day.)
  2. painted-eggsI helped the little girls blow out eggs, so that later we might paint them for Easter decorations. Poking holes and blowing out the contents of an egg takes much more time than cracking the shell on the side of the pan. But I endured. After all, I am the best dad.
  3. I let the girls pour syrup on their scrambled eggs.
  4. I let the girls bring another girl child into my house for the day, because “it has been so long since we have had a play date.”
  5. I made cheese quesadillas. (Even though an evil doctor has prohibited me from eating cheese, I will make you cheese filled delicacies and watch you eat them.)
  6. After lunch, I taught a session on drawing the human face in profile.

    Four pencil drawings of a girl's profiles

    A spectrum or illustration stretching from youngest to oldest student (except for the instructor’s example on the left). Claire wants me to tell you that the drawing on the right is by 10-year-old Ruthie.

  7. Later, I let my Bethany realize her dream of teaching me how to make marbled paper using shaving cream and food coloring. Because there were four students in her class, I was obliged to donate my last can of shaving cream. I don’t mind growing a beard. Many good dads have beards.
    Girls making marbled paper

    Four girls wasting one man’s shaving cream

    Marbled Paper

    The fruits of our labor

  8. I could have started my homework. I could have worked out. But instead, I took the girls to the library. We checked out picture books.
  9. When we got home, I vowed I would get to my homework. But we had new books. I just had to try a few out to see if they were any good. We sat on the couch and read books.
  10. In the evening, Bethany and Lydia made “mailboxes.” A mailbox is a handmade envelope, taped to the wall. (I envision a 24 inch circle of plaster falling off the wall when those mailboxes are pulled down someday.) Into this mailbox a sibling might tuck little notes of appreciation. As soon as the mailboxes were hung, I was waylaid by Lydia. “Dad, how do you spell ‘best’?”
    “How to you spell ‘sister’?”
    “How do you spell ‘ever’?”
    “Thanks, Dad, now I’m going to draw a picture on this side.”
  11. When they had finally gone to bed, I had my chance to get to work. But, I was drawn to the mailboxes. I found scrap paper and made little cards. Of course a card needs a hand-drawn illustration on the cover. I wrote notes thanking my two youngest for the fun day. (I left out the part about keeping from my work and fitness goals.)
  12. It was 11pm. The day was done, but I set up my indoor bike trainer and readied some reading material. As I was about to mount my bike, my son came down the stairs and said, “Dad, did you forget you were going to come up and read to me?” No. Of course not. The book was very exciting. We had to read two chapters.

So here I am at midnight. I should give up and climb in bed. But, in stubbornness, I insist on doing one thing for me. I will write a blog post so that all my selfless acts today may be turned selfish and scream, check me out! Best dad ever.

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