Adventures in Parenting #13: First Father's Day

Growing up, my family was never the biggest on holidays. Check that, we were never that big on the ancillary holidays. Christmas was a big shebang, kid birthdays were played up quite a bit (not so much for the adults, as it should be), and Thanksgiving was given its due. But that's generally where the celebration ended. When I was younger Independence Day meant fireworks at the lake but that tradition dissipated at some point, Mother's and Father's Days respectively usually meant a card and possibly a restaurant, and the rest fell by the wayside. I'm not bitter about this by any means as I've been around families who treat St. Patrick's Day, President's Day, and National Pancake Day as if Saint Paul himself was coming to dinner and I think it's kind of weird. If I don't get the day off of work then what's the point? But, as you might expect, this year's swim through the Mother's and Father's Day shenanigans brought some added importance because, you know, the kid. Lindsey is one of the world leaders in coming up with parties and celebrations which is totally great except that means I have to try to match that somehow when it's her turn to be celebrated. For Mother's Day, I think I knocked it out of the park: I stayed up all night with Cooper, allowing Lindsey a full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep (which was worth about $3.2 million at that point). In the morning, I presented her with flowers, an ink footprint (Cooper's, not mine), and donuts. (It's possible that I left our three week old baby in the car while I ran into the donut store at 5 in the morning but that's neither here nor there.) Boom, roasted. Perfect first Mother's Day.

But of course Lindsey topped that when Father's Day rolled around this weekend. I went to bed without the baby monitor and without setting my alarm (if you don't understand the utter joy that one can draw out of not setting the alarm, then I don't think we can be friends) and didn't wake until after 10:30. Glorious. When I did arise from my hibernation, I found this bounty of gifts awaiting me in the hallway:


With baby in tow, Lindsey trucked all the way out to Central Market to assemble a collection of fine foods I happen to love. Whataburger's Spicy Ketchup (FINALLY IN A BOTTLE AND AVAILABLE FOR MY CONSUMPTION AT ANY TIME), caramels with sea salt (life changing), and an assortment of green olives. What can I say, the road to my heart is paved in green olives. And sodium. And artery blockage, probably.

After pouring Whataburger Spicy Ketchup down my throat like a fat kid with cheese whiz, we headed out to Ol' South Pancake House for brunch, which is kind of like skipping school and then getting rewarded for it. "Breakfast at noon?! Where do I sign?!" Cooper wore his Bill Murray onesie to celebrate the occasion:


(Note: The kid slept through the entire thing. Ol' South is one of the loudest places on earth, akin to standing at the foot of Niagara Falls, and it is filled to the brim with the smell of bacon. He never stirred, even when the waitress kind-of-sort-of dripped water on him. Nothing. And yet at 3 o'clock in the morning he's disturbed by the sound the TV makes when I turn it off. I'm onto your game, kid.)

From there, we headed out to one of my favorite places, the Fort Worth Zoo. It may be childish but I love zoos. Always have, always will. And unbeknownst to many in the area, the Fort Worth Zoo is actually one of the best zoos in the country. I know because I have been to a thousand. (Or maybe a dozen but either way.) In order to cement my zoo nerdery and pass on said nerdery to the next generation, Lindsey purchased our family a zoo membership so now we can go whenever we want.


Again, however, notice the sleeping baby. The sun is shining directly on his little face, there are a thousand people milling about, and there is a live ALLIGATOR roughly 10 feet away from us but not a peep. Fine, whatever. We left shortly thereafter because of the aforementioned sleeping baby and because HOT but not before adding to our ever-increasing file of memories and possibly creating some new traditions in the process.

You win again Lindsey, Brian