In 1982 you took my mother out on a date and you allowed a fat two year old to tag along.
In 1983 you gave me a new last name, even though no one pronounces it correctly it is incredibly easy to spell, so kindergarten would be that much easier. Thank you.
In 1984 you gave me my first Spaghetti-O’s with meat balls. I thought it was poop in the bowl. I still don’t like meatballs, much to my wife’s frustration. You also gave me a little brother that year. He would become my sparring partner, my best friend and my worst enemy.
In 1985 you taught me how to ride a bike, and as if that wasn’t enough you also taught me to catch a Frisbee with my face.
In 1986 I rode my bicycle directly into the side of your vehicle. I remind you that you trained me. You didn’t get too mad though. After all this was only the first time I broke one of your cars.
In 1987 you began making me pick up the monstrous large piles of dog poop in our yard. I still do not like meatballs.
In 1988 you taught me a few jokes that mothers might not approve of. I would say you birthed my sense of humor. Many people today hold you responsible. You also made the mistake of sharing with me the rebel rock music of the 60’s and the 70’s. I am sure the resulting attitude of my teen years was not your intention, but there you go, it’s your fault.
In 1989 you gave me the responsibility of walking my little brother to school. He does not become my best friend for some years yet. We were at the time of course sworn enemies, so thanks for that.
In 1990 you allowed me to have a paper route, and then you didn’t allow me to quit the first Sunday I had to get up at 6 am. Thanks for the work ethic.
In 1991 you let me take martial arts classes. I used this of course to deter my brother from being a pain in the butt. It did not work however. I give you credit though for trying.
In 1992 you evened the playing field by sending my brother for martial arts lessons. Then you sent our mother so that she would be better equipped to separate the two of us. As an adult and a studier of men, I now realize this was just a ploy to earn you more napping time.
In 1993 you gave me a little sister. Almost immediately she pooped all over me. I will never eat a meatball. Thank you.
In 1994 I snapped the tree off the steering column of your car. I understand it was quite expensive to fix. You didn’t get too mad. It was only the second car I broke. You cut all my hair off that year too. Thanks.
In 1995 you never once embarrassed me in front of a girl, even though you promised to every day that year.
In 1996 you bailed me out….sorry. Oh yeah I also ruined the clutch in your car that year. I believe it upset you a bit that time. It’s not your fault, the third time is the charm after all.
In 1997 you helped me buy my first car. To my utter disappointment you also taught me the difference between a Pontiac Firebird and a Pontiac Sunbird. It was still a wonderful car, and to this day remains my favorite.
In 1998 you turned me loose on the world. We said our goodbyes and you did a good job of not scowling at the hole I called my first apartment.
In 1999 you moved away to Phoenix, Arizona. I stayed in Missouri and began my quest to spread your noble name. I was having fun practicing for this task.
In 2000 I succeeded in letting the world know how old you are by bestowing the title of Grandpa upon you. I also married that year.
In 2001 you met your grandson and shared in the joy with me. You taught me the true value of a nap. A value I have not been blessed with for some time now. I am enrolling my family in martial arts this year. Thanks.
In 2002 my house was hit by a tornado. You instilled me with calm and assured me that all was not lost. Turns out you were right. (Rainbows are round though.)
In 2003 I began what would inevitably become a divorce. You assured me that there is nothing wrong with a practice marriage. You pointed out in all your wisdom that greater men than I had trod that path.
In 2004 I met the woman who would become my second wife. Yes it was quick work, and while I would like to credit you with the genetic passing on of my good looks, I am afraid that has to all go to my mother. You did give me the spirit that won the girl though. Sorry and Thanks.
In 2005 I remarried and introduced you to my wife. After our 3 day visit you declared her a mute, and I cannot blame you. Although I assure you she talks as much as any woman we have ever met. I believe that in your presence many young people find themselves speechless. Take it how you will.
In 2006 I gave you a granddaughter. I know you were pleased. Pleased to have a granddaughter and pleased that I would now suffer the burden of raising two children.
In 2007 I bought my first home. It still needs a lot of work. I remember how good you are with tools, so I will take this opportunity to thank you for not helping.
In 2008 I gave you your 3rd grandchild. Another boy, to carry on the mispronounced name of Hise. I had finally fully inherited the curse to be as burdened as you were with children. Thank goodness I had such a great teacher. Both my boys pick up the dog leavings.
In 2009 I surpassed your burden and had a fourth child. Another boy. I am sure you are still laughing.
In 2010 I turned 30. It’s amazing how old you must be!
Well Father it is 2011 and for the 29th time I bid you a HAPPY FATHERS DAY! You sir, are indeed ‘THE MAN!’