I’m still getting used to Father’s Day. At least to being on the receiving end of Father’s Day.
On Sunday morning I was lazing in bed for a bit while Leah went about putting the finishing touches on my Father’s Day gifts. She came into the room with Ava and set her on the bed next to me, where she promptly crawled over and said, in her tiny little morning voice, “Happy papa’s day, daddy.” Oh, man. I’ve had some days start off great before, but nothing even comes close to that.
To top it off, Leah got me a couple really nice gifts. First was a little ladybug-themed gardening bucket with a little spade and rake in it for Ava to use when she helps me in the garden. Next came a new gardening hat for me that boasts an SPF value of 50. I can’t recall seeing an SPF value attached to a piece of clothing before, and it strikes me as a marketing gimmick. If I go outside wearing my raincoat, does that afford me an SPF of 100?
My last gift was a 117-piece Crafstman socket set. It’s gorgeous. Nice laser-etched sockets and everything. Alas, the set was missing one item, but a quick trip to Sears fixed us right up. After the mall and a stop at Paul’s, we went by the ice cream store to get Ava a cone before heading home. It was a fantastic day. Seeing Father’s Day from this side really drives home the fact that it’s not so much a celebration of me as another excuse to celebrate my daughter. Like I needed another one of those.