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Father's Day 2008

In all the excitement leading up to my son's first birthday, it totally slipped my mind that Father's Day was coming up. I remembered that I had to get a card in the mail for my own father, but it wasn't until I saw the flyers in the weekend paper urging us all to forget the tie and buy Pop a big screen TV that it dawned on me that for the first time Father's Day would apply to me.

To tell you the truth, it feels kinda weird. I'm a big fan of my own birthday – May 13th, mark it on your calendar – but I've never been the subject of a special “-day” before. I worked a summer as a secretarial assistant once, but Secretary's Day, excuse me, Administrative Professional's Day, falls in April, so I totally missed out on that one. As for the other forks on my career path, I'm pretty sure there isn't any Hallmark-endorsed commemoration for those who work in convenience stores or newsstands. I also don't believe that International Talk Like a Pirate Day is in the same category.

It made me think back to last Father's Day. Our son's due date was fast approaching and my wife began to experience the early rumblings of labour. They continued overnight and it looked like it was all systems go. It was scorching hot out, but we heard that walking helps to bring about labour, so we set out for the hottest, stickiest walks around the block that you could imagine. If you've ever been pregnant in summer, I'm sure you can imagine how hot and sticky that is.

The next trick we tried was spicy food. “Spicy food!” my wife said. “Bring me spicy food!”

I took off to our favourite Vietnamese restaurant – Hanoi Three Seasons, at Broadview and Gerrard – to order us up some spring rolls and spicy lemongrass and tiger shrimp soup. As I walked in to place my order, the man at the counter excitedly asked, “Are you a father!?”

“Actually, I hope to be this afternoon! My wife's in labour!”

I t was only then that I realized that it was actually Father's Day. The kind people in the restaurant were giving out candy to every father that came in the door. That was something I had never seen in my entire life. When it comes to appreciation days, Father's Day is usually somewhat of an afterthought, so it was very surprising to see someone taking it seriously, and in a Vietnamese restaurant, no less.

“Hey, that's close enough!” the man cried, and filled my hand with candy, which I of course shared with my wife.

It dawned on me that it was quite possible that my son could actually be born on Father's Day, which would make a nice present for me, the best present, in fact. It wasn't to be, however, as the labour sensations were just a test run and Jack hung in there for almost two more weeks. Even though it didn't do the trick, the soup was still delicious. My lovely wife, however, was prepared, just in case our son did make a Father's Day appearance. She presented me with a very fetching trucker hat with “#1 Dad” emblazoned on the front.

Now a year later, we have a crawling, drooling, nearly-one-year-old whose favourite activity is biting the furniture. Has this addition to my life caused a change in how I see myself? Even though every diaper change reminds me that yes, I am a father, there are times when it seems utterly unbelievable that there is a tiny human who relies on me for his survival. Me – the guy with the vintage Colecovision videogame console, a couple thousand comics books and a Captain Kirk action figure circa Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan waiting to beam up from my desk to the Enterprise.

(photo courtesy of Stephen Recker)

I guess it matters less what I think of myself as a father than what my wife and child do, and I suppose the giggle fit that Jack breaks out into every time I wear my “#1 Dad” hat proves to me that they think it's true.