It’s Father’s Day. Yeah….so….we’re gonna need those TPS reports—To Paternal Supermen.
So for all the dad’s watching golf, playing golf, drinking, sleeping, fishing, or doing other dad things…kudos to you on your day off!
(Cuz they ain’t readin’ this, mamas. I know my audience, ladies.)
Most men are well…men. Ordinary men. That’s not bad. I don’t mean it to be. There’s that whole biological aspect to it. You know, the nature aspect. There’s also the nurture aspect of it. The whole mother-in-law thing–if you know what I mean.
But some men, some men, are extra-ordinary.
They’re “Dad-Asses”. (Yeah, I just coined that. #intellectualproperty TM.)
I know some.
Let’s call them “The Avengers”.
First, we have Captain America: patriotism, pride, perseverance, and he somehow always wins in the end.
Next up is the Hulk: chill and intelligent, until you hit a sore spot that plays into his defensive mechanism. And ripping off his shirt. Which I don’t mind.
And we can’t forget Iron-Man simply because he is Robert Downey Jr… there’s nothing junior about that guy. Any Iron-Men you may know, know that their fists are the not the only thing made of iron: their hearts are iron strong enough to hold as many people as they want, yet also blast an entire galaxy of bad guys away.
Thor? Thor, we adore. (And so do the Cyrus’–did I get that right?) He’s brutish. And complicated, yet we still love him and adore him and root for him. Why? Because we know in the end he’ll make the right choice. And he does.
Black Panther. Black Widow. Loki. Hawkeye.
Why am I am IMDB’ing “The Avengers” on a Sunday Father’s Day blog?
I had a whole different blog rolled out and ready to go today, folks.
It was called “Tiny Truths” inspired by four very interesting conversations this week. It seems so lame when I type it and see the title now, but it’s deep, people. We’ll save that for a rainy day, Kenny Chesney. (One of my favorite songs btw…second to “American Kids”–which my kids are sick of by now.)
But “Tiny Truths” didn’t get published today because life happened.
The bad guys came.
And they came bearing truths not so tiny. Not tiny at all.
I needed to avenge some bad guys of my own. I think we all do. And we need people in our lives to call us out on our big demons. Not the tiny ones, though. Pick your battles.
My stepmother always says you take the bad with the good. People are complicated. Life is complicated. It’s layered. It’s textured. Like the characters we so root for.
Like the Avengers.
Like the Dad-Asses.
But, wait. What about the dads who aren’t around?
What about the dads who are around but suck anyway?
What about dads in jail?
What about dads who are deceased?
What about great guys who aren’t dads? Will they ever be? I hope so. We need more of their genetic makeup in our world’s legacy.
What about great dads but totally crappy husbands?
What about single dads who never get a witness to their awesomeness?
What about moms who do double-time as dad and mom?
So, Meg: why a Father’s Day blog when you’re divorced and your dad lives in Florida and is taking a road trip today with his wife to New Orleans?
(Yeah, it bugs me. When mom died, dad kind of died, too.)
So this blog really came from a place of a really extra-ordinary man. An avenger. A Dad-Ass. Matt.
He’s Captain America by all accounts, Hulk when he needs to be, Thor when the time comes, and ready for all other aspects of “avenging” when his beloved clan needs him.
And he’s doing it all alone.
But he’s not alone.
Because superhero though he may be, he’s got six backups. And a dog.
(And let’s be honest, if I have to wear one of those Scarlett Johansson or Michelle Pfeiffer outfits, I’ll hit the gym more often just to look the part.)
But this is what Matt does. He saves things. He fights for what is good and right.
He is the captain of our team. All seven of us.
All with our own strengths. All with our own weaknesses.
Together we’re a team. Avengers assembled.
Together we’re a sequel. 🙂
So on this __________ (Michigan weather TBD) Father’s Day, I hope that you avenge your bad guys–both literal and metaphorical. Get rid of anything toxic. Keep the good stuff and nourish it.
I hope that you are lucky enough to know a Matt. And if you have one of your own, nourish the relationship.
Dad lives matter.