I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might

Yesterday was Father's Day. For the first time since I became a Dad, I got breakfast in bed. The eggs were overcooked, the bacon was undercooked, the coffee was cold and the toast was rock hard with two cold lumps of butter smeared on the top. Jon made it himself and it was the best breakfast I have had in a long time. Jon does not fully appreciate breakfast. He has never been the kind of kid to wake up early and eat, in fact, he doesn't even want to talk about food until he's been up for a couple hours. He has also declared this month "Sleep till noon June". The fact that he got up early to cook breakfast for me covered up any culinary shortcomings the meal had. In spite of all the yelling and grounding and yardwork and cleaning we have gone through this year, he still wanted to get up and do something nice for me. That made me feel good, like I'm doing the right thing.

While I chewed my eggs, I thought about what I like about being Dad. I enjoy seeing myself in my kids, they inherit our scowls, winks and nods. I like the reception I get when I come home from work. An enthusiastic greeting can instantly erase the shittiest day at work. I like the way the kids boil over with excitement at the trailhead when they are waiting to start a hike. It reminds me of a hunting dog who sees the guns come out. My hands down favorite part about being Dad is getting to be their hero. Jon will come to me with a broken bike he has been trying to fix for the better part of an hour and I show him how to fix it in 5 minutes. Doctor's visits can be scary for a toddler, but holding Daddy's hand makes a protective shield that keeps you from harm. The role of the hero is fleeting and only lasts for so many years. Jon is starting to see more Clark Kent in me and less Superman. Last week he was fine with me waiting in the lobby while he went in for a simple procedure. He's almost ten, in 4 years, I will be the dumbest person he knows. Annie trusts me completely to protect her from yippy dogs or deep water. Three days ago, I failed Annie for the first time. She fell off the back of a pickup and did a face plant on a driveway. The next morning she woke up looking like she had gone 10 rounds with Apollo Creed. Other than her gruesome appearance, she is the same happy, carefree girl she has always been, I still feel a twinge of guilt for not being able to protect her. We went through the same thing with Jon when he had a mishap camping with a relative. He also collected some terrible looking wounds but inspired us with his refusal to succumb to self pity. He healed and is none the worse for wear, in fact, he has a healthy respect for fire. You could say that he learned from his mistakes, so the ordeal wasn't entirely negative. I hope that when her nose feels better, Annie will be a little more careful when she plays in pickup trucks. I have to accept the reality that I would never be able to protect my kids from all of the wrongs in the world, sometimes the best you can do is be there to dust them off when they fall and let them go try it again. For now, I am going to keep being my little girl's hero while I still can. Scary monsters beware.