We didn’t celebrate Hallmark Holidays growing up, as my mother famously asked us, “But what about the other 364 days of the year?” And frankly, Dad had enough ugly neckties already. It was his passion.
And so I have little sentimentality for Father’s Day, though I have tons for my parents, now long gone.
I have a fond memory my Dad in his soft, well-worn Pendleton bathrobe, trying to make pancake breakfast for us on summer morning. I heard the blender start followed by laughter and some light, Dad-style cussing as the batter hit the walls and I think the ceiling. He claimed the lid flew off the old Waring, but I don’t think he put it on as it was about the only thing in the kitchen that was clean, including him. He was good about laughing at himself, so we felt OK laughing too as he wiped batter off his glasses.
The pancakes were very good that day at Biff’s Diner in downtown Oakland. (It looked like the Jupiter II, the 1960s-era flying saucer from Lost in Space, so it was way cool to me and my sister Ninegrain loved all the flavored syrups.)
So, to all the dads, step-dads, dad-wannabes, and assorted father figures out there, here’s to you. Today might be only one day of the year, but everyday you create memories, and sometimes pancakes for your kids. Just remember to put the lid on the blender and laugh when you don’t.