WHY NOT?

I happened to go by TLW’s (The Little Woman) Mother’s Day wishes in the form of a greeting card from #1 Son, sitting next to the TV. It happened to look like a very nice card so I opened it up and read it. It contained the usual sentiment from both TLC (The Lovely Courtney) and #1 Son about mothers and mother’s day and how she did all this and that etc.

Being how I am a romanticist, love true sentiment and all, I read the inside and noticed there was an additional sentiment written in my former son’s handwriting. Penned among the emoted and cleverly worded Mother’s Day rhetoric was:

“Have Daddy do a bunch of stuff, and you sit back and relax.”

?

Dear Son:

Daddy has done his “bunch of stuff”- he is tired of doing “stuff”, both singularly or in bunches. Daddy, like a lot of Daddies would like to lie down and maybe not be in a rush to get up anymore. He ran around the house getting Mom ready for her trip to the hospital and drove in a driving rainstorm so he could have her deliver you and your suggestions, then he went out and bought a bunch of stuff so you could be playing: baseball, football, basketball, and deck hockey. (Still waiting for you to come and claim, as it sits in my basement) Some days he did a bunch of “stuff” in the heat of a mid-day sun on the baseball field, or in the cold of a fall damp and rainy evening on the soccer field. Sometimes after long weeks of commuting on the LIE, at a basketball game rooting you on, on my Saturday off.

I distinctly recall all the science fairs and plays etc., “stuff” I went to on your behalf, “stuff” you wanted a full house for, on days I couldn’t raise my head because of shame that the train ran late, I had to rush my dinner getting indigestion and stomach cramps and go to the school to cheer you on. Of course I won’t mention the rides you needed to friends houses and sports events and other stuff. Did I mention the trips to Shea Stadium?

There was always bunches of stuff I had to do around the house, to make it safe and convenient for you and your sibs. There were Christmas Eves when I was left at the foot of the stairs while you slept in your bed and I put together the toys that Santa delivered. There were 40 million parts and pieces that needed me to put together and make it work before the crack of dawn, hiding the leftover parts buried in the backyard when all I wanted to do was go to bed.

So naturally, I was surprised that I was still needed around here: that there was still: “a bunch of stuff” that needed MY attention! I guess it is nice to be needed yet.

Sincerely,

Joestuff Del Bloggolo
Your former father until further notice