It’s Father’s Day weekend. For some of you who have men who love gadgets, have hobbies like fishing, hunting, or computers, or they just in general have Gifts as one of their main Love Languages… Father’s Day is about getting him something he loves.
I didn’t marry that man. Hubs’ hobbies are also his job: and I don’t understand a bit of it. I don’t see the “obvious difference” between an 1834 Garrison something-or-other and an 1848 shacko (Chacko? Shocko?) cap. I don’t have any idea how many buttons are supposed to be on a Navy peacoat for it to be pre-WWII, late WWII, or modernized Navy which, I think is something after Cold War period.
To be honest. I have no idea what I’m talking about so just ignore that.
Most of the time, I’m a pretty terrible gift-giver. I’m terribly practical. For a bunch of newlyweds that have been married recently, I gave them Wal-Mart gift cards for groceries and gas. Now that I’m trying to put together a registry, I’m not only completely clueless – but cheap enough to actually put on the notes: feel free to buy this crap at a garage sale or Wal-Mart.
But it’s Father’s Day. Not only that, but it’s my husband’s FIRST Father’s Day. It’s the first Father’s Day present I’ve ever purchased. Ever, in my life. I want it to be special.
It’s hard to fit Special in a box.
We spent Father’s Day much like we spend every Sunday. Volunteering for one service, sitting in another, going to his Mom’s house and spending time with them, ate too much, putzed around in “The Big City” of Tulsa, OK. Met with friends who are dealing with the first Father’s Day without their dads; some like us, whom this is the first really Good Father’s Day ever.
That kind of Special doesn’t fit into a box either.
I did end up getting him something pretty cool, and he absolutely loved it. But, honestly, him napping beside me, our son kicking away, and the beautiful sound of thunder mixed with our fur-kid snoring… Perfect.
Enjoy the weekend. Take a nap. Ignore the boxes.
But By Grace 