Sunday Seven - Special Father's Day Edition!

I am a bad daughter, sometimes. I totally take for granted my great parents and routinely and blithely disregard the fifth commandment by forgetting to include them in my "List of Things I'm Thankful For."

This is partly because, well, they're always there. In the background. There when I need them, keeping a respectful distance when I don't. Kinda like the sound technician in church: if he's doing his job, no one notices or cares.

(Of course, one squawk from a microphone and the entire congregation swivels around as one to see who is on sound today? It's a thankless job.)

But given that it's that time of year again when we are reminded that it's a thankless job, and I can't think of anything cooler than being recognized on this here small corner of the Internets, I give you:

Top 7 Ways My Dad is Awesome:

1. Fries with gravy. I didn't hang out one-on-one with my Dad all that much, which made our little dates all the more special. One time, he took me to Uncle Jake's at the mall and we ordered fries with gravy. I'd never had them before, and I was stunned by the goodness. All that carby, fatty, salty amazingness. He also taught me to add a little sweetness to the mix by squeezing on some ketchup. It's because of that day that I had fries and gravy and ketchup at least three times a week all through high school.

2. The dump. Saturday morning was reserved for sugared cereal and cartoons at our house. But Dad was up with the birds, working around the house and the yard. The only thing that could tear us away from the TV was him yelling down the stairs, "anyone wanna go to the dump?" Would we?! We flew up the stairs in our pajamas and piled into the blue '78 Oldsmobile Omega and bounced in our seats all the way to the dump where we found all sorts of cool things like burnt salad dressing bottles and dolls with no heads. Once, Yenno found a garbage bag filled with maggots. Oh yes.

3. The farm. My dad didn't have an awful lot growing up. But one thing he did have was the farm. It was a play farm, the barn made of metal, with all sorts of twee little animals. It had fences. And watering troughs. It was hidden away most of the time, but every winter, when we'd exhausted our parents with our energy and there was a fire in the woodstove making everything lovely and cozy, he'd bring out the farm for an evening of magical play.

4. Worship leading. Church was a pretty big deal when I was a kid. Our lives - religious and social - revolved around its weekly rhythm. I got used to my parents being gone a lot of evenings, but it didn't ever really occur to me that they were Serving the Lord. But one thing I loved was when my Dad was the worship leader. It was such an important job - directing the Sunday service, telling people where to find the hymn numbers, even praying. I'd get all fluttery with pride when I saw my dad up there.

5. The shelf. My dad is pretty handy. His favourite thing to build is shelves. Free-standing, attached to the wall, hinged so they fold up like a Murphy's Bed - they're all great as far as he is concerned. (This is because he is a bit of a pack rat. He keeps everything because it might be useful one day. I have only ever seen it happen once, where he needed something, disappeared into the garage for half an hour, and emerged triumphant, holding the bolt up to the sky in victory, declaring that he had had this for fifteen years and it was a good thing he kept it.)

Anyway, when we were young, we did a lot of driving out to BC where we had some fantabulous family. To keep us occupied pre-DVD days, he built a folding shelf to use as a drawing table that hung from the back of the front seat and hinged up when we were napping. It was amazing. He even painted it blue to match our car. Never mind that if we were in an accident while it was down we would have been sliced in half. It was still pretty wicked.

6. Mr. Mom. Our family was pretty traditional - Dad worked and Mom stayed at home with us. They each had their areas of expertise and divided up the duties nicely. But every so often Mom would go away for a week to visit our fantabulous family in BC, and Dad had to do double duty. On one such trip, I came down with scarlet fever. My memories of that time are mostly of itching, but I remember my Dad taking me to the doctor and then, after observing me trying to itch my back without breaking the skin by sliding up and down on the carpet, bringing me a one-foot square piece of rug that I could take around with me like my own personal scratching post. That is some solid parental care right there.

7. Grandpa. My Dad loves my kids. When The Boy was little, he refused a food source that wasn't warm, squishy, and attached to his mommy, so if I had to go out for the evening, my dad would hold that crying little boy in the rocking chair, turn on some hockey (because that was the sport that seemed to work the best) and spend over an hour patiently trying to get him to drink from a bottle. When I visited my dad at work with an infant The Girl, he pretty much burst his buttons with pride showing her off. He has taken those kids on more chariot rides behind his bicycle than can be counted. It's pretty great as a daughter watching your dad love on your kids.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!