I’ve been obsessed with time for as long as I can remember. I owned a watch as soon as I was able. I was the kid who always knew the time. My friends and I had a game where we’d guess the time after playing football or a round of Risk. I usually won (the guessing game and also Risk). Somewhere inside of me is a wildly accurate timepiece connected to the great cosmic mystery of time.     

It should be no surprise then that, in the past year, I’ve started getting a bit nerdy about watches. It started when I embarked upon a seemingly frivolous quest to find a watch that matched my car. Months later, I bought a 63-year-old, handmade Swiss timepiece, imported from Germany, that I must wind every night before bed. So, you know, that escalated.

The watch wasn’t wildly expensive and it’s subtle. Only watch people will “get it,” and as a piece of antiquated jewelry, no average person would mistake the well-worn case as anything special. Full disclosure: I’m unwilling to say how much I spent on the bespoke leather watch strap imported from the UK. I mean, whether it’s new controllers for a PS5 or new wheels for the project car, you can’t run stock, bruh.

Naturally, as curious kids do, my oldest daughter picked up on this new pursuit of mine. She likes to play with my vintage watch. It has a loud ticking sound that harkens back to a bygone era. All three of my kids like to hold the watch to their ears like it was a seashell whispering ocean magic, but only my daughter, a third-grader, is able to interact with the pushers to unlock the watch’s secret powers: multiple complications! Seconds. Minutes. A sweeping hand. It’s magical. I pretend to be totally comfortable with them running around the house with my watch as they use it to time different activities.

Then, I needed to buy a watch for my daughter, because, well, duh. It’s a battery-powered quartz watch, but it’s analog. No easy-reading digital for her. She wanted to learn “the proper way.” (I’d like to say I didn’t put that propaganda in her head, but I pride myself on my writing being honest. So, well, mostly my fault.) She’s not allowed to wear the watch to school, but when she gets home, she immediately puts it on. “Daddy, I put my watch on,” she’ll announce with pride.

This Christmas, my daughter handed me a small box. My daughter was beaming as I soon found myself opening a watch box. She was so excited to give me this watch. She had picked it out, sure she knew what I wanted. In that moment, my growing watch snobbery was met with my beautiful, bright-eyed daughter handing me a gift.

This watch wouldn’t be one I’d pick for myself. She got the right brand and the right color scheme. She got it on leather, instead of a metal bracelet. So much she got right, but she got the most important component, the heart of the watch, the movement, all wrong.

And I couldn’t care less.

I’ll keep this green Seiko quartz watch until this mortal body fails, and I slip into the great darkness where time ceases to have any meaning.

This new watch anchors me in time and space to a moment of innocent joy and pure love. This Christmas totem is now infused with curly hair, Taylor Swift, and the smell of girly shampoo. It’s an anchor rooting me in the good times, the best times. Even Doc Brown couldn’t design a more perfect time machine.

Why am I attaching some much significance to this gift?

Recently, my mom died. I have nothing physical that emits memories of her to which I can cling. My dad will soon pass too, and I have nothing from him either. I seek neither wealth nor luxury, things our family never had, but I’m desperate for a physical connection that could transport me back to the times of my youth when my parents were robust and full of life. Something like that green Seiko quartz watch my daughter gave me for Christmas.

Parents, I want to encourage you to find objects into which you can pour memories. Instead of buying a thing, build a thing with your kid in the garage. Don’t just order something online, go try and find it at a yard sale and drag your kids along. In this consumerist world of disposable garbage, seek out items that will endure. I’m not talking about heirloom quality things with high monetary value. I’m talking about the little things, the memories with infinite value. In a digital world, go find some real tokens of time and place. Put in the effort and make the memory. Seek out these items, not just as a way to justify collecting something, but as a way to ensure your immortality. Memories keep us alive. Spoken sentences containing tales of old memories are the surest way to live forever.

We are all going to die someday, but we can be immortal by speaking to our children through the sentimental items we leave behind. In my mind I see my daughter sitting with her own kids. She has my old vintage watch around her wrist. She fingers the loose and weathered buckle, the aged leather gives way, and a well-worn Heuer Pre-Carrera Chrono slips off her wrist. Her own daughter is asking to hear “the ticking and the tocking.” Before passing it along, she holds the watch up to her ear, a mop of curly hair nearly obscuring the pale watch face, and there’s my immortal voice.

Photo by Jacek Szczyciński on Unsplash

My wife worships Christmas.

Once the Thanksgiving dishes are done, it’s all Yule, all the time for her. Nothing but Christmas music in the car, Christmas movies on the television, and Christmas shopping on the weekends.

And she was like this BEFORE we had a kid. Now that he’s here, and he’s alive enough to begin to understand Santa and presents and cookies and the tree and all that, not only has my wife’s Christmas-loving resolve strengthened, but I no longer have a Scroogey cane to stand on.

Especially on Christmas Eve when there’s work to do!

This past Christmas the kid had a sense of what was happening, in that he enjoyed tearing the brightly colored wrapping paper off things that were handed to him. This year, he understands toys and seems to get the concept of presents. So it’s game on for the Wife!

Now that our kid is in the know, my wife’s Christmas obsession is in the stratosphere. She wants nothing more than to give our son a good Christmas, which means making sure all the TV he watches is Christmas-themed, all the songs he sings – and he does sing – are Christmas songs, and that he is indoctrinated into the (fraudulent) magic of Santa Claus.

He has been told who Santa is, can identify him in a lineup, and seems genuinely excited about him delivering presents overnight. So yeah, the kid is into the whole Santa Claus thing, so long as that “thing” doesn’t involve going anywhere near an actual person dressed as Santa Claus.

Of course, to complete the illusion, most of the gifts my son will be getting have been signed “From Santa” and, most importantly, none of them are under the tree before he goes to bed on Christmas Eve.

This means after he goes to sleep that night, a half-in-the-bag Daddy is forced to lug everything down from various hiding places throughout the house and down the stairs so that they will magically appear under the tree by the time he wakes up.

I am OK with it. Christmas magic hasn’t happened here in a while and the whole holiday had gotten pretty stale around here, but now that there’s a kid around, the holidays are re-energized, and that’s nice.

Provided I don’t break my neck carrying a huge wooden train set down the stairs.

A version of this first appeared on Dad and Buried.

Dads can create an invaluable record of their lives with and for their children through a recent series of guided journaling books that will help them share and safekeep their stories and memories.

Record your ‘origin story,’ fathering milestones

100 Questions for Dad: A Journal to Inspire Reflection and Connection, written by former Philadelphia Dads Group co-organizer Jeff Bogle, offers prompts to inspire fathers to open up about their lives, before and after kids. The goal: preserving their story for their children to enjoy for years to come.

The book poses various questions to help dads recall and record memories, milestones and moments. It starts with recording their “origin story” about their own years growing up. Some topics covered include childhood memories or school, first loves, first jobs and early inspirations.

The journal then moves on to fatherhood. Dads are asked to recount memories of early fatherhood, common traits they share with their children, and fatherly advice for the future.

Each prompt asks for, at most, a dozen lines or so of writing. This makes the journaling less intimating to newbie scribes. Quotes about fathers from famous people peppered between prompts offer inspiration.

Remembering life, love with papa

Bogle also composed A Love Journal: 100 Things I Love about Dad. This guided journal is for children to record what it is that makes their father special and memorable to them.

Kids are asked to create “top three” lists about dad, such his quirks, jokes and beliefs. Fill-in-the-blank sentences to complete help them record favorite memories, activities and times they have shared with pop.

This journal would be a great for a spouse or other loved one to work on with younger kids then present to dad as a gift on a special occasion. Tweens can fill it in themselves.

Guided journaling for Girl Dads

Bogle, who has two teenage daughters, didn’t write All About Dad and Me: A Journal for Fathers and Daughters but it doesn’t fall far from the tree.

This new guided journaling title from his publisher, Rockridge Press, focuses on preteen girls (ages 8 to 12) and their fathers. It hopes to create a collaborative effort just between them to share their thoughts about each other and their lives.

Through lighted-hearted questions, the book aims to not only share stories, funny and otherwise, but also open lines of communication. This will help with future discussions about feelings and issues that arise when navigating the often choppy seas of adolescence.

Photo: © LoloStock / Adobe Stock.

Have you come to a crossroads in life and wished you had someone to guide you? I did in my early and mid 20s. Married with my first child on the way, I had a job but nothing I could see myself doing forever. I had no direction in life. That time would have been so much easier if I had a mentor or some type of resource I could have referred to.

Your kids can have that kind of help, and this greatest gift of all truly comes right from you.

My wife and I created an email account for my 3-year-old son and another for our daughter who’s still in “the oven.” And today, I wrote my unborn child an email. I told her that I’m not perfect, but I’ll always love her. I told her that we’ll figure this thing called life out together.

As parents, it’s easy to get caught up in the day-to-day craziness and forget something that would made us laugh or feel proud or cry as a future memory. How will we be able to remember all of these great childhood happenings when our adult kids ask us what they were like as toddlers or they seek clarity and direction about how they should go about life. We probably can’t. At least I know my memory isn’t that great. Half the time, I’m relying on my wife’s memory of MY past.

But sending an email is so much easier. At the end of the day, month or even year, I can take a few minutes and write my children something heartfelt, important or funny. Something motivating and profound. Or maybe I just send them photos and videos of us doing things together as a family.

Our plan is to give them the passwords to these special email accounts at their high school or college graduation. Maybe earlier if we think they’re ready.

Ideas for this greatest gift for future unwrapping

Like the concept, but don’t have any idea what to send your kids. Well, you’re in luck, partner. I made a list:

• A picture of them or letter on their birthday every year.
• Did you (or someone else) teach them a life lesson today? Send an email reminding them of the moral of the story.
• Did you have to punish them for something they did that was inappropriate but was actually pretty hilarious? Tell them about it!
• Instead of letting school art projects clutter your home, keep the ones you really like, take pictures of the rest. Email them to your kid. Then throw away the wack artwork.
• Family pictures of your kids with your spouse, grandparents, great grandparents, their little friends and anyone else you think they will appreciate at an older age.
• All those videos on your phone that you’ll never watch again. Yep! Now your kids can re-watch them again in 20 years.
• Write them and apologize to them for a mistake you’re going to make in the future. Or pre-scold them for not calling you enough in college.
• Send them a list of your favorite books, documentaries, websites and movies.
• Tell your children to drop everything and go watch Breaking Bad or whatever is your favorite TV show of the moment.
• If you haven’t heard of StoryCorp, it’s an organization with a mission “to preserve and share humanity’s stories in order to build connections between people and create a more just and compassionate world.” There is a StoryCorp app that let’s you interview people. Let your kid interview you and you can then interview them. In addition to emailing the recording, it will be stored in the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. Pretty cool, right?

So while a photo on Facebook now might be worth a thousand words, thousands of words (and photos) over the course of decades are way more valuable. Give your kids this personal and greatest gift of your thoughts, memories and lessons when they come to a crossroads in life. I promise it will be a gift that keeps on giving.

Greatest gift for kids photo: ©ulza /Adobe Stock.

No need to go on a last-minute shopping spree for Father’s Day, dear.

You can skip the “#1 Dad” coffee mug this year. 

Scrap buying me a new, shiny white pair of dad-sneakers – mine have plenty of tread left.    

No ties, no tools, no superhero T-shirts.

No golf shirts, no golf tees, no golf shorts or golf shoes. 

Nope, honey, I want NOTHING for Father’s Day. 

And I mean it.

This is not the same nothing you wanted for your recent birthday. It is a different version of the nothing you coveted for Mother’s Day a month ago. No, I’m savvy enough to sniff out your passive-aggressive attempt at testing my creativity and ability to listen to the small hints you’ve dropped throughout the year.   

I’m serious. I truly want NOTHING for Father’s Day. In fact, on June 20, I want the following, specific “NOTHINGS”:

• NOTHING waking me up before 8 a.m. No alarm clock, no children, no antsy dogs breathing just heavy enough to annoy me into awakening for the day. Nada.
• NOTHING that requires me to satisfy any basic human need of another. No feeding, clothing, washing, drying, putting to bed, reading to, or listening to any (and all) little humans that are not otherwise able.
• On Father’s Day I’ll be deciding NOTHING. I relinquish any authority to be consulted on, and, in any way a part of, both, pressing (“What are we supposed to eat?”) and meaningless (“Is underwear OK for two days?”) household verdicts. Yes, on this day, I want full immunity to use “go ask your mother” without limits or exception. 
• I want to hear NOTHING while enjoying a few moments of bathroom solace. The little shadows that normally appear on the floor just outside the door, today, they must go elsewhere. The knocking that follows the 10 seconds of that shadow patiently waiting will also be prohibited. I will enjoy a silent reign upon our porcelain throne.
• I want NOTHING to do with any activity requiring preparation – not with food, kids, logistics, work, or play dates. I will not be grilling, chauffeuring, dropping off, picking up, or looking at a schedule for anything on Father’s Day. 
• You and the kids should expect NOTHING from me – probably all day.

I must admit celebrating Father’s Day by requesting a day that resembles nothing about parenthood seems odd. Don’t misunderstand . I love being a father and husband. In fact, I’m hopeful that my daily efforts to do the opposite of nothing helps me justify the day of nothing I’m yearning for.

In exchange for NOTHING, I promise to wake up on Monday, June 21, back in my normal, solid, eager-to-be-a-great-dad shape. You, me, and the kids can return to our routine: unnecessarily waking up far too early for the summer, saying “Watch this, Dad” one thousand times more than “thank you,” tag-teaming the dinner time onslaught of “hangry” kid-beasts, and, that evening, we’ll do our best to get the children bathed and chilled out before bedtime. If we’re really on our parenting game, the kids will even be wearing a clean pair of undies. 

Yes, for Father’s Day, I want NOTHING – except the hope that the momentary downtime will help me muster the energy needed to make sure I am nothing short of everything for you and the kids the other 364 days.         

Sweet nothing for dad Photo: ©Africa Studio / Adobe Stock.

As the first-ever Pandemic Mother’s Day of our lifetimes approaches, you may be wondering just how the heck you can celebrate the mothers in your life when you shouldn’t really be leaving the house or interacting with others right now due to COVID-19.

I’m a mother of four, social distancing in our home with my husband, kids and two smelly dogs. And I’m here to offer some ideas and tips for making sure this Mother’s Day still feels special.

Ask her what she wants

If you’ve never straight-up asked the mothers in your life what would make them happiest on Mother’s Day, this is a FANTASTIC year to start, and the sooner the better. Even if she’s always seemed happy with breakfast in bed and flowers year after past year, it’s entirely possible she would like to change things up. Maybe she really wants breakfast in a bath, behind a locked door. And to replace the flowers with noise-cancelling headphones.

Plan and act now

We’re all supposed to be trying to keep our store-runs to a minimum right now. Dashing out the Saturday before Mother’s Day to browse multiple stores, even if they are open in your area, in a search for the right gift isn’t really an option. If you still need to order something, it won’t arrive before Mother’s Day (despite your Amazon Prime membership — sorry), but I think most moms will understand this year if they have to wait a bit for it to ship. Just wrap a photo of it! But still — order it now, not the day before or on Mother’s Day, if you can.

Silence costs zero dollars

I don’t speak for all mothers, but I can tell you that all I want on Mother’s Day is a break. Parenting 24/7 while social distancing is wearing me down. My 3-year-old never stops touching and talking to me. He even insists on laying on top of me while he naps. Many parents are experiencing extreme emotional and physical burn-out while we self quarantine with kids.

Some of us are on a tight budget right now, but it doesn’t cost anything (or very much when you calculate the cost of gas) to clean out her car, fill a travel cup of coffee for her, put together a great playlist on Spotify, and just let her drive around in silence for as long as she needs to. If driving is not an option, promise to let her watch TV or listen to podcasts in silence — ALONE — for as long as she wants on her day.

To me, this and any special thing, meal or experience she asked for would make for the perfect Pandemic Mother’s Day celebration.

Recognize that this is unusual

I hope we never, ever have to celebrate Mother’s Day under these circumstances again, but this can also be a great time to do something you’ve never done before. Since going to her favorite restaurant is probably not even possible, order takeout from there instead and set out a beautiful table at home. Maybe some great, new traditions will come out of this unprecedented time.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jill Krause isthe author of 50 Things To Do Before You Deliver & Lactivate. She blogged at BabyRabies.com for over 10 years and now shares her life on JillKrause.com. Krause lives outside of Austin, Texas, with her husband and four children after traveling the United States and Canada in an RV for 18 months. You can find her on Instagram @JillKraus.e

Pandemic Mother’s Day photo: © JenkoAtaman / Adobe Stock.

Every Christmas growing up, for as long as I can remember, our entire family would attend The Nutcracker ballet together. We would get dressed up and, my dad’s three brothers and their families also along, head into downtown Chicago to watch some Christmas magic.

As I kid, I really didn’t enjoy this. I had to wear dress pants and most likely some God-awful itchy sweater that my mom loved. However, what I did like was that we went as a big group to somewhere special. That was our time together.

We haven’t done this in forever. With us kids grown up and with families of our own, the logistics are mind-boggling. We can barely get together for Christmas day anymore as my family lives in entirely another state as do some of the uncles and aunts. I wish we could have some of the magic back.

And while I barely remember any specific presents I received for Christmas when I was a kid, I do remember those ballet trips the most out of all our family’s holiday memories. Why? Because of what my dad did after those outings.

It must have been around the time that stereo systems first came out with CD players because my dad was all about the Dolby Surround Sound. We all came home from the show one year, and he was filled with the spirit of the ballet and popped in his copy of the Nutcracker Suite.

He disappeared for a few moments as the music filled the house, only to reappear in the hallway dressed in his long underwear, twirling and spinning to his heart’s content. I never laughed so hard in my life and still chuckle just thinking about it. I am literally LOLing right now.

What I have taken away from this spectacle (and it was a sight to behold) is this: As a dad, you have to take advantage of times when you can make a fool of yourself for the benefit of your kids.

Growing up with three brothers, I didn’t have a lot of exposure to “girly” stuff so I am glad that as a father of daughters I get to have tea parties and dress up with them. For example, today we had a princess party and my 5-year-old told me I couldn’t come unless I was dressed like a princess. So I pop on a hot pink wig, boa feathers and a tiara. I think that I sufficiently fulfilled those requirements, don’t you think?

(Photo: Chris Bernholdt)

As always, it is all for my kids’ benefit. I am awesome at making a fool of myself for them and I am sure a lot of you other dads are as well.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge.

“What would you like for a Christmas present?”

It was a simple question, sitting in a text message, timestamped and marked as read.

I didn’t have a simple answer.

Peace on Earth would be nice, but I would settle for a government that cares for its people.

Cures to everything: disease, hunger and otherwise? That would be a Christmas miracle.

Financial security might help me sleep at night, but a job would do me wonders.

“Nothing,” I replied, because those are the things I would like forever.

+  +  +

I was in middle school when my mother’s parents died, both in the same year. I came home one day, bus-scented and gangly with cowlicks in my hair, to find my mom mascara-smudged in the kitchen. Then four months later we did it again, but with the added benefit of practice.

My parents divorced a couple of years later.

Still, the holidays persisted.

Even as an adult, as life continues to twist our stories, dropping obstacles like so many pine needles, we move forward, one calendar page at a time, each blurring with the next until we go full circle, another December and the motions that we go through.

We have always found ways to make the holidays matter, despite years of grief from losing far too many, or perhaps because of it.

And yet, if there was a Venn diagram of Christmas ghosts, this year would be the overlap. We all have our own tales of life gone past, and our thoughts about the future, but the present? Now is not a gift to anyone. Who among us hasn’t wondered the point of wrapping paper under a fake tree when we live in a world where presidents endorse child molesters, war is on the brink and every third man is a monster?

This is Christmas Present in the Upside Down, and all the lights are flashing.

But it’s not too late. We can’t, despite a lack of solace in the solstice, turn our backs on hope, especially during the holidays. In fact, this may be the year we need the holiday season most of all.

Hope is a spark and a flicker, a beacon of warmth against the long, cold night. It may seem in short supply this year, but all we have to do is look to our children to help us find it. Kids shine with hope, brightly, in dreams of Santa and the laughter of friendship. They wear it like a smile and spread it like petals and sunshine. Relatively speaking, they have more past to look forward to, and they use their hope to light the way. They are our candles in the window and bonfires in the distance. Their hope is a thing to be nurtured and cherished, but also inspiration and a constant reminder of it.

It is Christmas Present, here and now, and it will be again. Along the way our stories will twist and we’ll face the things we wish for and some we wish we wouldn’t. There will be loss and obstacles, questions, joy and darkness. Things will end while others are just beginning. Everything will change, repeatedly. Carry hope, heedless of the season, and it will be the gift that we are giving.

+  +  +

The text chimed with the reply, like a bell sending tidings from the season.

“Okay,” was sent in a bright, blue bubble. Then there were three little dots beneath it.

“Then tell me what you need,” it said, and from there the bells kept ringing.

Christmas present photo: Denise Johnson/Unsplash.

I want to spoil my kids rotten.

But it’s not with all the toys and other materialistic things you might be thinking!

I want to spoil them with experiences and my presence. I want to be there, not just say I’m there or post a dope pic on my IG acting like I’m there.

Is it hard investing all that time, especially after a long week of working and handling other responsibilities? Of course it is, but if I don’t do it who will?

Want to make the greatest investment of your life? Work on being present and loving it. It can take a while, but that investment is one that always pays off in the long run.

My dad spoiled me rotten. He would buy me all the newest sneakers and video games I wanted. But the one thing he gave me the most, which I didn’t appreciate until I was older, was his time.

His presence made a huge difference in my life. The toys, the gifts, all that, were just a quick fix. A gift loses value over time and then you’ll want something new anyway. If we are going to raise the bar every time then it has to be through our experiences and time together.

Avoid guilty buys

Have you ever bought your kids stuff because you felt guilty for not being there? We all have done it before, some more than others.

I try to avoid the guilty buys by always being involved with my sons. I coach their basketball teams, help with homework. You know, the things we parents are supposed to do and so much more that I don’t show the world.

I just don’t do it; I try to have fun with it. If it’s something I think would be cool for me to do, I make my kids part of it. I don’t give myself the option of feeling guilty. That feels real good to write. I’m proud to not to be just a weekend dad; instead, I invest year round in my kids.

Real world over virtually reality

The worst thing we can do is let our kids grow up in a bubble and be oblivious to the rest of the world. Today’s kids are hooked to digital devices like their lives depend on it. They know what they see on the Net and we all know that sometimes that stuff isn’t right.

Growing up, I always knew there was more than just the block I was raised on and it started with my dad taking me off it when he could. Investing your time off the block doesn’t even have to kill your pockets. There are a ton of free things to do to create really dope memories if you really look. A simple train ride or even a car ride can hook it up.

If you do want to spend a little cash why not try something you always wanted to do. Always wanted to do a rope climbing course or love the arcades like Chuck E Cheese? Than do them! There are no rules saying you can’t have fun while your kids do.

Better yet, start knocking off bucket list items with your kids. That’s how you really do it big. Create dope memories together!

The world isn’t boring; your presence shouldn’t be either. You and your kids will look back and smile at all the cool things you did together. Now that’s winning.

A version of this first appeared on Cool4Dads.

Editor’s Note: We asked mom, humorist and Barry Manilow fanatic Wendi Aarons for her advice on celebrating Mother’s Day this year. Enjoy.

Mother’s Day is a wonderful opportunity to show your wife, mother or the special woman in your life how important she is to you. It is also a wonderful opportunity to screw up big-time.

I say that as someone who once spent Mother’s Day at a dilapidated horse track in San Antonio, Texas, dressed in the purple sequined “jazz hat” she was given as a gift by her family. Thank goodness I hit that trifecta or the day would have been a total disaster.

To save you from a similar misstep, I offer the following Mother’s Day advice on activities and presents that will have the woman in your life weeping with joy, not crying in her closet.

Ask Her What She Wants to Do on Mother’s Day

Does she want to spend the day alone? With friends? Hanging out with the family at the park after a nice lunch? Start asking her at least a few days before the big day so you can make definite plans.

Of course, there’s a good chance she’ll respond to your questions with: “I don’t care, whatever is fine.”

This is not true. Whatever is not fine. Whatever is NEVER fine. Whatever is chugging $1 beer at the horse track when she would much rather spend Mother’s Day sipping champagne on a sun deck. But she didn’t say so. Ask. And keep asking.

DO NOT do the following on Mother’s Day (unless she specifically requests that you do):

• Let the kids wake her up before 8 a.m.
• Let the kids pee on her before 8 a.m.
• Allow any cooking in the kitchen that involves batter and/or dropping eggs unless it will be immediately cleaned up by Not Mom
• Say things like, “You know, moms have it pretty easy, overall.”
• Post home videos of your wife’s labor and delivery on Facebook

Ask What She’d Like for a Mother’s Day Gift

If you’re someone who is great at picking out a perfect gift and who enjoys giving surprises — congratulations, you are not married to me.

Most dads are too busy with work and kids to comb the mall for hours trying to find the most special item ever. That’s totally OK. It really is the thought that counts (unless the thought is the aforementioned purple sequined jazz cap.)

That’s why I suggest asking your wife/partner/mom/helpmate what she’d like you to get her. Most women have a few ideas or names of stores they like and would be more than happy to tell you. My suggestion: Go with a gift card or flowers, and have the kids (if they’re still young) make something for mom. Handmade is always the best, even if it involves glitter.

DO NOT buy the following as Mother’s Day presents (unless she specifically requests that you do):

• Home waxing kit (and I’m not talking about for her car, but that is also not cool)
• Membership in a weight-loss plan
• Booty shorts from Wet Seal in size 2
• Anything with “fight fat” in the name
• Sexy lingerie
• Unsexy lingerie
• Gift card to Hooters
• Stretch mark cream
• Anything with “preventive” in the name
• Groupon for a massage in a spa that’s actually a van
• Flavored vodka (actually, this one is OK)
• HOT MOM T-shirt
• MILF T-shirt
• A hamster
• A pregnant hamster
• Anything with “senior” in the name
• A card printed off of the computer with a message typed in Comic Sans
• Laundry room items
• Handmade coupons for things like “hugs” that she will put in a drawer, forget about, then try to redeem in 10 years when the giver will sneer and say it’s “totes expired”
• Meat

But you probably already knew all that, didn’t you, Mr. Modern Dad? Of course, you did. That’s why you’re still walking upright. Like my husband mostly did on the way home from the horse track.

About the author

Wendi Aarons is an award-winning humor writer who can usually be found at wendiaarons.com, McSweeney’s, US Weekly Fashion Police, the PaulRyanGosling parody Twitter account, or starting fistfights by the 70 percent off rack at Target.