I thought to myself, what kind of party was he planning?
Then I sat down to write this post, and it hit. Tomorrow, June 20th, is Father’s Day. He probably got a new grill, and they were shopping for a family barbecue.
Father’s Day is different from Mother’s Day. On Mother’s Day, we go out for lunch, and the kids try to be quiet so we can take a nap. On Father’s Day, dads and kids play games, plan meals, and engage in shenanigans.
I love recalling Father's Days when the kids were younger. There was the time when my (then) seven-year-old son thought for sure dad would want a football as a Father’s Day present. They could play together.
Then there was the year the kids bought the “Best Dad Ever” t-shirt. My husband’s response was epic. Anyone who saw the wide grin whenever he wore the shirt would have sworn he won the lottery. His kids thought he was the best. Nothing else mattered.
Dads are heroes of a different sort. They make sure the lights are turned off in every room, and the car is maintenanced at the correct mileage, and they know the best places to hide when mom has had it.
They are also the playmate who can make up games at a moment’s notice and the sage who seasons their stories with hard-learned truths.
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For those of us who were curious about the history of Father’s Day, I have a p.s.
- The first Father’s Day, in 1910, was declared by Sonora Dodd in Spokane, Washington. Dodd was raised by a single father. After the first Mother’s Day, she wanted her father and many like him to receive recognition for his dedication to his children.
- The holiday had its peaks and lows. Some rejected it as a marketing ploy or another way to trigger gift purchases. The true intent remained, and Father’s Day was declared an official holiday in 1966.
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In recognition of Father’s Day, I’m sharing a scene with one of the devoted fathers in the Three Creeks Series
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There they stood in the slightly awkward situation.
Thanks to her sister Layla, Charlotte was standing in front of the dreamiest man she had set eyes on. This man was coated in flour.
Tegan looked familiar, but Charlotte couldn’t determine where she had seen him before.
A slightly younger, thinner version of Tegan brandished a hand broom. “We’ll have this cleaned in no time.”
He dressed more casually in jeans and a gray and red raglan shirt. The similarities in noses and square chins gave away that they were brothers. The man with the Nordic blue eyes that expressed a degree of seriousness despite his smile had to be Logan.
Charlotte switched her gaze between the brothers. Tegan’s eyes were more along the lines of a cobalt blue hue.
“I look more like my father.” Tegan tilted his head toward Logan. “The milkman left him on the porch and we decided to keep him.” A warm grin full of admiration contradicted the barb.
“Don’t listen to him.” Logan waved the hand vacuum around like it was a weapon. “He’s just jealous because mom loves me best.”
“I can relate,” Layla took the hand broom and handed Charlotte the dust pan.
Layla had already won the battle of “What are we going to do for fun this weekend.”
Charlotte wasn’t going to let her sister get the upper hand on this one. She said, “Ah, sibling rivalry at its best,” which meant I’m not going to play this game.
It was a skill her Aunt Lizbeth taught her. If you don’t pick up the ball, they can’t throw it back at you.
Tegan backed away, taking one step in slow motion. He was mid second step when Tegan said, “Hold still. Every time you move, flour falls off of you. This will be easier to clean if you let me get you in one quick swoop.”
“The quick swoop is what worries me.” Tegan held out his hand. Logan handed over the vacuum, again grinning. This time it was one of playful defeat.
Charlotte and Layla swept up the flour on the floor while having a conversation of their own. Flicks of eyes and subtle brow wags claimed dibs. A slight lip curve conveyed agreement. Who cares? Both are cute.
As Charlotte dropped the last dregs of flour into the trash bin, Tegan regaled Charlotte with stories about how Logan roped him into participating in events. He rolled his eyes before saying, “I still don’t know how he talked me into a cookie baking marathon.”
Logan nudged Layla with his elbow. “There may have been some comparisons to the baking shows and fans.” He smirked, “If he asks, tell him the cameras are hidden in the cabinets.”
Logan hid behind jokes but Charlotte could tell that, like Layla, Logan found a sense of purpose when he offered a helping hand to whoever was in need.
“Oh, what happened here?” Janie Roberts, the director of Cookie Palooza, frowned at the mess until she saw Layla. Then she wagged her finger playfully, “You always were a trouble maker. Which means you know how to take care of this.”
Layla batted her eyes and shrugged as if to say, “Yes, I’m a clutz.”
Janie peeked down at the clipboard in her hands. “How do you feel about snickerdoodles?”
The four voices joined to become one. “They’re my favorite.”
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