June 16, 2006

Silicon Valley Mom

Father’s Day… the forgotten holiday

By Dona Nichols
Times columnist

My husband, Ralph, says summer vacation means it’s time for Father’s Day, which he’s dubbed the forgotten holiday.

Like most men, Ralph whines a lot, especially around Father’s Day because he thinks mothers get all the glory.

“Of course Mother’s Day gets more attention because mothers make more of a sacrifice,” I said. “Fatherhood starts with an evening of bliss followed by a nine-month break. Motherhood starts with an evening of him begging for an evening of bliss, followed by nine months of the baby using your bladder as a trampoline.”

“It’s a little more than that,” said Ralph.

“That’s right,” I said. “There’s also the nine months of you begging for another night of wedded bliss.”

Contrary to popular belief, Father’s Day was not invented by a guy looking for ways to acquire hideous ties. It was invented by Mrs. Sonora Smart Dodd who wanted to honor her father, the Civil War veteran William Jackson Smart, who raised his six children as a single parent.

It seems to me Mrs. Dodd wanted to honor her father for being a surrogate mother. I imagine that her father went out to fight the Civil War just so he could escape the sibling rivalry wars at home. It gives me a whole new outlook on war and I may be ready for the calling.

“Comparing mothers to fathers is a lot like the analogy my old boss used to use when he’d talk about commitment,” I said. “He used to say that the chicken was an active participant in your breakfast, but the pig was committed because he gave his life to provide you bacon.”

“Let me guess,” said Ralph. “I’m going to be the bad example here.”

“No, but you are going to be the egg,” I said. “You participated in making these kids but I carried them for nine long months.”

“What boss said that?” asked Ralph.

“The one at U-haul. He was always giving this commitment speech and asking if we were giving eggs or bacon,” I explained.

“Which one were you?” Ralph asked.

“I was toast because I quit after the boss hit on me,” I said.

“Who came up with the gift ideas for dads?” asked Ralph.

“Those clearly came straight from Mantown,” I replied.

Mantown could be Home Depot, Orchard Supply, or any quality store that sells Father’s Day gifts like drills, belt sanders and fertilizer … all the things a guy needs in order to be a really good dad. Mantown is also our code word for anything that drives a guy to the edge of stupidity, like showing off by crushing a beer can on his head.

Chicks don’t do this because they don’t have the faulty mantown gene in their DNA. We have the highly evolved genes that enable us to pick out cute shoes, coordinating purses and other important things involving our ability to accessorize.

Of all the faults boys have, and there are many, I do believe that a goodly number of them overcome their shortcomings when they become fathers.

Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s the repeated begging for a night of marital bliss. Maybe it’s the humbling experience of being peed on while changing a diaper.

I think of all the things my kids would never know if it weren’t for their father. Ralph is the one who taught them to eat over the sink. He’s the one who showed them how to freshen the dog’s water bowl simply by flushing the toilet.

He also taught them that love means doing the right thing even when it’s the opposite of what they wanted. But most of all, this wonderful man called Dad, is the one who taught our kids that family matters more than anything when he brought his own father to live with us. He leads by example and if my two boys grow up to be half as good of a father as Ralph then I’ll be happy and promise not to take all the credit. If they turn out to be terrible fathers, I won’t take the blame.

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there who have enriched the lives of so many children and especially to my husband, Ralph, who I love dearly. I’ll be surprising him on Father’s Day with a new compost bin, 50 pounds of fertilizer and, of course, a full three and a half minutes of marital bliss with no begging.


Dona Nichols teaches journalism at San Jose State University and does stand-up comedy on the side at the Improv in downtown San Jose. She lives in Evergreen with her husband and three children. Email her at: DonaNichols@gmail.com.