By Paula Schmitt
The other day I overheard my perfect husband preaching, once again, to our sons about how when he was younger he didn’t have all the luxuries that kids have nowadays. You boys don’t know how lucky you are – Oh No!
Here we go again. Glancing at my sons, you could practically see the boredom grow in the fertile soil of their disinterest.
Why when I was your age, I had to do chores until my fingers bled (yawn yawn), and I never watched TV – I played outside like a real boy (just call him Tarzan). I had to cut the grass, rake the leaves, sweep the pool, shovel the snow, and when I got older, I had to get a job to help pay for my college tuition. (Nominate this man for a Nobel immediately!)
Nowadays, kids have it too darned easy (On and on and on – blah, blah, blah).
Why, I never had access to look up answers on a computer like kids do today. I used my brain, by golly. (Einstein, no doubt).
My guys have heard it all before from dear old Dad. I see the eye-rolling and hear their heavy sighs. Right about now they are wondering if dear old Dad has anything better he needs to be doing, like trimming his nose hairs. But, he doesn’t.
When will they learn to just suck it up, button their lips and listen to their father’s good advice? It’s not like my husband enjoys hearing himself talk day in, day out. (God knows, that’s my job).
So, as I sit and listen to my preaching hubby, for the 10,000th time, deep down I am hoping that my boys will remember their father’s words when they have children of their own. Then they can continue in their father’s footsteps and watch the eye-rolling, hear the heavy sighing, and so on, and so on and so on.
What are fathers for anyway?