Daddy TBS (he's a semi-professional bass fisherman if you didn't notice:-))
Dads have it so tough.
The greeting card industry has made a circus of Mother's Day but if you visit any Target today there will be no one clamoring over sweet prose on folded paper. Head over to a spa right now and there will be very few buying gift certificates for their dads.
A true Daddy's girl, I certainly know mine like the back of my hand. Truth be told, he'd rather Sissy TBS and I not spend any money on him so that we can do something for ourselves. We, of course, ignore that and purchase his annual pair of white Reebok sneakers (Hey! They are what he want!), give him a gift certificate to his beloved Bass Pro Shop (the ONLY store in which I've never been able to find a thing to buy) and share a wonderful dinner.
I can't wait for this Sunday. I'm preparing dinner: Yogurt-marinated and grilled chicken skewers over rice, drunken shrimp, grilled corn, mango coleslaw, strawberry cake and homemade lemonade. Daddy TBS will tell us what we're doing wrong with our cars, our flower beds and our mortgage rates. We'll protest with rolled eyes, sure enough, but secretly feel an extra layer of protection. Daddy TBS means well. It reminds me how, even though I'll be walking into a new decade in a few years, I'm always his girl.
Any special plans this weekend for you?