A little over a week ago...
Wife: Hey, you got your hair cut!
Wife: Let me check it out... oooh, looks nice. Turn around.
Me: Oh?! What oh?!
Wife: Oh nothing.
Me: What?! What?!
Wife: Well, you know, its just... well, no... nothing.
Wife: It's just that, well... its getting just a little... maybe a smidge, just a tiny bit, but nothing to worry about, thin on top.
Me: What?! *runs to the mirror*
Wife: It's not THIN... you know... just thin... er.
Me: AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! See what you are doing to me?!
Couple Days Ago...
Son #1 (K): Hey Dad, what is that grey stuff in your beard?
Me: What? Food?
K: Noooo, I think it's grey hair!
Me: What?! Grey hair! Never!
K: Uh, it is grey hair.
Me: Let me see... *runs to the mirror*
K: So? You are getting soooooo old!
Me: AAAAAAHHHHH!!! See what you kids are doing to ME?!?! I'm going to work...
... 30 minutes later...
Mike: Hey, wanna get some coffee?
Me: Yea, sure.
Mike: Oh hey, did you know you have some grey hairs in your beard?
A little later in the week...
Ping: Daddy Daddy! You need to shave!
Me: Yes, I will shave.
Ping: And your tummy too?
Me: My tummy?
Ping: Yes. You need to shave your tummy.
Me: *looks at tummy* I didn't think I needed to shave my tummy. I guess I cou...
Ping: And your BACK!
Me: What?! *runs to the mirror*
Ping: Oh Daddy... you shave soon! Then I give you kisses!
Me: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! When did I get hair THERE?! See what you kids are doing to ME?!
|So just to be clear, big scary, hairy horse? OK. Daddy, not shaved? BAD.|
A little later in the week...
Daughter #1 (G): Piiiiing, you can't eat all the cake!
Ping: What? Why I no eat all cake?!
G: Because it will make you fat!
Ping: OH! Like Daddy!
Me: What?! *runs to mirror*
Ping: *teehee* DADDY HAS A BIG TUMMY!
Me: AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! See what you kids are doing to me?!
*siiigh* It's just been one of those weeks.
I've been called:
These are not labels I stuck on myself. Noooo. My labels are more like:
- Rough n' Rugged (tm)
- Alarmingly Hansom
Never the less... there are labels stuck to me which I don't like. Hmmmmm... I guess I could try to change them. I mean I could... work out... loose weight. Wax. Uhhhhh, wait... no waxing. I think they might have to live with the hair.
But then as my children climb all over me, and snuggle up on the couch that night to watch Family Movie night... I noticed something... the only person who actually cared about these stupid labels... was me.
The children (and wife!) calling me old... fat... hairy... bald... didn't care about those things. They saw the hugs, cuddles, the accepting father... the goofy, forgiving Dad who will always love them no matter what.
Those were the "labels" they really cared about. It was those labels which I should have cared about.
Ahhhh, but human nature right? We all get stuck on the wrong thing from time to time. So how much so our children? What labels are they looking at... maybe we don't see these labels? Maybe we don't care about these labels. They might. For the last 2 weeks Ping has been asking me why she is brown.
|She noticed she looks different than her Mom, Dad,|
and 27 brothers and sisters.
I tell her, it is because that is the way God made her, and that she is BEAUTIFUL! That we are all different, even those of us who have white(ish) skin.. K has green eyes. G has blue eyes, D has grey eyes... We have blond hair, brown hair, black hair, and hints of red hair in the family. To me... these are not labels which matter... to her... they matter.
|Oh they look innocent and cute when the sleep. |
Cuz they can't call you fat, hairy,
bald or old when they are sleeping.
Now, what to take from this?
- My wife is probably screaming at the computer right now because I got the children's eye colours wrong. C'mon! Green vs blue eyes?! There's like NO different... not in eyes. In sky vs grass? Yes. Unless it is blue grass... then they are similar. But I digress
- Ping actually still cares about the hair... she stands in the bathroom doorway and waits for me to shave before she gives me a kiss. I'm still waiting for that to change... I might be waiting a long time.
- It is now 3:23AM my time and I am no longer sure what I'm typing. I hope this was funny, clever, brilliant, touching and insightful. Failing that... I'll settle for coherrent. Failing that, I'll settle for something not offensive. Failing that, just stick another "moron" label on me. My kids won't notice it.
- My wife has probably already called me to correct me on the children's eye colours.
- Bad labels suck. And I'm not fat... just... husky. You know, rough and rugged. But we have to raise our children label free. Or at least, BAD label free. May we covered them with good labels.
That was really good, makes you stop and think about the real labels that count! How easy it is to take on those labels that really don't matter. Thanks for sharing!ReplyDelete
"funny, clever, brilliant, touching and insightful"--yep, all of that! good job. :o)ReplyDelete
I absolutely LOVE reading what you write.ReplyDelete
And for the record? I think Dad's that spend time (and money) on the gym and hair-implants and tanning beds and waxing have it all wrong. And their kids will remember that they cared more about their appearance than they did about spending time with their family.
You, Mr. Rough and Rugged, are an awesome Dad!!!
Husky or not. Hairy or not.
And funny. Oh so funny!
I was feeling kinda bad - I haven't been blogging much lately, and when I did, most the blogs were heavy or border line depressing... Theres alot going on.ReplyDelete
Work. Adoption. Wifes father passing away. Moving(?). Blah blah blah...
Gotta find time to settle - clear the mind, and blog more. Very therapeutic.
Thanks all for reading. :-)
Ok so now I feel guilty about mentioning the grey hairs in your beard! I mean it's not like you're old or anything, young pup!ReplyDelete
I voted for you ya big ole grey bearded hairy top 25 Circle Of Moms ya!!!!!ReplyDelete
Mike: I've been called worse at work than "old" with "gray hair". :-)ReplyDelete
Rob: Thanks man! Knew I could count on you. ;-)
My father got his first gray hair in his late teens; I wasn't too far behind. When people comment (and I'm almost aaaalll gray now), I just refer to it as "my gray badge of courage" -- each and every gray hair EARNED. As far as Ping waiting for you to shave... I can relate; I remember when I was little, my Grandpa was really, really prickly before he'd shave... made hugs quite uncomfortable. :-)ReplyDelete
Hmmmm, Grandpa. Odd memory just jarred loose from the back of the my mind. When I was little, my Grandpa used to pick us up, and rub us with his whiskers... he called it his "whisker rub". We would laugh, although I'm sure it hurt. But odd, thats probably why I relate "whisker rubs" to signs of affection... while my daughter thinks I'm trying to kill her.ReplyDelete