A Dad's Life
Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.
Dads have a busy life. They get up early and leave the house for work before everyone else is up. They drive many miles to and from work and they spend all day most days, doing things for other people. They have bosses, secretaries, and co-workers that are constantly demanding things from them. By the end of the day they are ready to be home, but the day isn't done.
Before coming home, dads have to make sure there is gas in the family car for the next day's travels and then it is off to baseball practice, dance lessons, or karate. When he finally walks through the door, a quiet moment is hard to find. Children have stories to tell from school, arguments are waiting to be settled, and mom explains that the van had a flat, the washing machine isn't working, and the computer repairman said it would cost $400 to fix the computer. Dinner was ready an hour before he came home and all that is left on the table are empty drink cups and bread crumbs so what he eats will be warmed up in the microwave.
Weekends are a flurry of events. Beginning on Friday night, dad's taxi service is open for business. One child wants to meet friends at the high school football game at 7PM and another wants to go to the movies at 8. If he times it right, he can get one child to football, drop the other at the movies, pick up some supplies at the home fix-it store, be back at the stadium to pick up a child and then back to the theater without any child having to wait. Children rarely worry about keeping dad waiting, but if they have to wait five minutes the cell phone rings like crazy.
Saturday the grass has to be mowed and the gutters need to be cleared. Tires have to be rotated and bills have to be paid. Two soccer games, one on one side of town at 9AM and the other on the other side of town at 4PM shatters any hope of rest or an afternoon nap. With a little luck, Sunday afternoon will allow for viewing at least one football game between a late lunch, and ensuring children have their homework done before bed.
When the lights are finally out on Sunday night, the weekly cycle is ready to start again. A dad's job is tough and nobody really teaches us how to do it. We have to be calm when everyone else is falling apart and we often get the last of everything. Dads drive late while everyone sleeps in the car and dads endure the pain of thorns as they lift their children over briars on walks in the woods. And of course, just like every dad has done since Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, we could spend most of every day walking from room to room shutting out the lights.
We have to balance budgets and dads get frustrated when the family always seems to want more than his paycheck can provide. It makes him feel like a bit of a failure to hear "I want" all the time and dads often put their own dreams on hold.
But of course there are perks. We get to use the remote control, drink straight from the milk bottle in the refrigerator, and we are the only ones who are allowed to touch the thermostat. We also get to use phrases like "There is no reason to panic," "Were you raised in a barn?," "Don't make me come in there," and "I know where I'm going."
Being a dad is hard work, but at night when we shut out
the last light, lock the door and head for bed, there is a peace
in the house that only dads can understand. We are kings of our
little domains. Mothers get pampered on Mother's Day while dads
get a tie, but that's OK. The children are safe and comfortable
in their beds, our wives think we hung the moon, and we know we
wouldn't want it any other way.