When I was fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have him around. When I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years. -- Mark TwainI can't wait to be a Dad.
I can't wait to teach my toddler to say "Leafs SUCK!" and then feign shock and dismay when it's enthusiastically shouted in the grocery store.
I can't wait to open a hockey bag, in September, full of equipment (put away wet and jammed in the basement) looking for the $75 shin pads my 8 year old swore up and down were "stolen" after the last game back in March.
I can't wait to find them.
I can't wait to burn them for the safety of all concerned and buying a new pair.
I can't wait to tie ten pairs of skates at six in the morning in a cramped dressing room while the "coffee" I bought at the arena's concession stand sits untouched and congealing on the floor under the benches.
I can't wait to take a day off work to take my 12 year old, at his insistence, skating on the Rideau Canal on a December day so cold, your wind-whipped tears freeze to your face on contact.
I can't wait to pack it in ten minutes later after the fourth time said 12 year old complains that "my boogers hurt!"
I can't wait to stand, hose in hand, at midnight on a 30 below January night to make sure the ice on the backyard rink is absolutely perfect by the time the kids come home from school the next day.
I can't wait to curl up on the couch on a lazy, snowy Sunday afternoon and explain the beauty of a perfectly executed double-raze-takeout, or the intricacies of a zone blitz.
I can't wait to say "Can you go get Daddy a beer?" at halftime.
I can't wait to burst into the bedroom and laugh at my very green pre-teen who is feeling the full effects and dire consequences of breaking into my liquor cabinet after I went to bed the night before.
I can't wait to show enough mercy not to mention anything about it for the rest of the day.
I can't wait to show my child that nature's perfect food is an inch thick top sirloin steak grilled to medium rare and sliced across the grain.
I can't wait to say "Don't tell your mother I said that."
I can't wait to let my 15 year old help me build a new room in the basement, entrusting him to mix the compound I'm going to use to hold the drywall tape.
I can't wait to open the door on our new room the next morning to find that four hours of taping had completely collapsed and was now lying in the middle of the floor.
I can't wait to teach my child that the only things you need to do basic electrical work are a pair of pliers, some work gloves and a good sledgehammer.
I can't wait to teach my child how to find a good electrician. And dry waller.
I can't wait to make a two hour round trip at three in the morning because my daughter called and tearfully declared that she had had a fight with her roommate. And I can't wait to help her move out the next day.
I can't wait to show my kids what a gift it is to be married to the same person for twenty-five years.
I can't wait to show my kids that my whole world revolves around them, and that no matter what they do or the trouble they get themselves into, they will always have a place to come home to for as long as they need to stay.
I can't wait to be a Dad. I can't wait to be my Dad.
Happy Father's Day.