FATHER’S DAY REMINDER: WHO’S YOUR DADDY?

 

When my kids were young we played a game of ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ one Father’s Day.

 

It started and ended with one question: “Who would you rather have as a dad than me?”

 

I had their answers all planned out. Of course they’d favor me?

 

Instead of a simple “You” as an answer, I imagined them saying so much more, like I’m the best dad, the greatest dad, no one could ever be a better dad.

 

You know, the usual delusions parents carry around.

 

I knew I had two keepers when they gave the same answer:

 

They both wanted Michael Jordan as their dad. Michael Jordan? Yes, that Michael Jordan.

 

Right answer or wrong, I saw what they did. They worked outside the box, swerved out of their lane, saw a bigger picture. Michael Jordan though?

 

Their answer was all I needed to confirm what I suspected all along: These two would be a handful.

 

Michael Jordan? My first impulse was to send them to their room to study my high school annuals from 1971-1973, my Army bootcamp book from 1974 that looks like a high school annual, and my college annual.

 

I ran the order through my mind before deleting it: ‘Get to your room you little ingrates and don’t come out until you can name the people on either side of me in each book.’

 

But I snapped out of my selfishness and let it ride, determined to show them who’s who by my good deeds.

 

“Michael Jordan didn’t teach you how to read,” I said.

 

“Dad, we taught ourselves.”

 

“Well, Michael Jordan wouldn’t have given you the freedom to teach yourself. He would have made you shoot baskets all day,” I said.

 

“Dad, that’s what we want to do.”

 

“Right, well Michael Jordan wouldn’t give you medals and trophies every day to try and win your hearts,” I said.

 

“Thanks?”

“Thank you?”

 

 

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As a parent, co-parent (?), of adult millennial offspring, children, progeny, those guys, I get a guilty pleasure reading and listening to moronic millennial complainers like Mike Rowe with no direct connection to the younger generation.

 

The famous dirty dog working dirt cheap dumps his load of bullshit on the millennial generation because of his parenting experience? His community connection to schools? His mentor academy? Or being a television actor?

 

I don’t carry the same observations as Big Mike because I’ve seen a local cohort of millennials with the same life seasoning events and experiences shared around the world.

 

Their hurt comes from parental suicide, evil divorces that include the hilariously lame “I never loved you”, unsolved murders where the remaining parent is the prime suspect while raising kids, and so much more, but you get the picture.

 

Slam the inadequacies of millennials and you might as well punch yourself in the face. Sports fan needs to check their team of millennials. Political fans need to see millennials at the polls. Academic fans need to raise the bar of better millennial citizenship. Career fans need to plan ahead with millennials in charge.

 

To the dads who make Father’s Day what it is, take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if you got it right with your kids. My own question has a slight variation:

 

“Did I do it better than Michael Jordan?”

 

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Remember this Father’s Day when you look at pictures of your kids and wonder how you’d react when a man in uniform takes them one direction while another uniform stands guard over you.

 

What Would MJ Do?