Me, As Father

The concept hasn't really struck home yet.

I've had moments, certainly shots in the red of the Bull's Eye, but nothing that has impaled me with the utter realization that, within a year, I may hear:

"Daddy, I wanna learn the care and handling of a Japanese katana."

Ok, well, maybe not all those words exactly. But the gist of those words, yes. Forefront of them, the first word which not only conveys a position of responsibility, but an emotional attachment that is never broken; not by space, time, distance or death.

If you don't believe me, check out my buddy's blog entry Pre-Phather's Day Phunnies, or ask any child, male or female, what they think of their father. Hell, think of your own father and move from there. Answers will be as varied as the stars in the sky, running the range from gratuitous affection to a sort of fear and loathing I generally reserve only for Keanu Reeves.

Fathers may be distant or close or next-to-non-existant, but they have an impact.

I've seen pictures of my son, I've heard his heart beat, I've even selected a number of impressive fashion-conscious onesies for him when he arrives.

This Father's Day, though, that concept was foremost in my mind, and I'm pleased to say that while I am not 100% certain that I will be able to handle this position, I feel more confident now than I ever have in the past. While I may still have the emotional maturity of a 13-year old watching Revenge of the Nerds, that's an entire order of magnitude better than I was just five years ago.

So, Porter me-boy, bring it. Your "old man" is ready, and your mom is waiting for when I fail utterly.