It isn’t a grill. It isn’t a tie. It isn’t a book. It isn’t a drill. It isn’t Scotch. According to the real-life dads we asked, the things they want for Father’s Day aren’t usually things at all…
Mike S.: I’d like a day where I don’t have to make decisions or plans. No “Where do you want to go for dinner?” No “What do you want to do on your day?” No “What do you think about these drapes/plates/rug/plant/etc.?” I don’t need stuff. I don’t need to be pampered. I knew going into this that being a dad wasn’t for lightweights. I just want a day where I get to go along for the ride, hang out with my kids and wife and everything is already good to go.
Cliff R.: A clean house, but I would settle for their rooms being cleaned. I ask for that every year, and still nothing. I tried upping my odds by having more kids, but I need to rethink that strategy.
Henry J.: To spend more quality time with my kids where I don’t have to do shit for them, and they do shit for me like make me refreshing beverages and carry me upstairs.
Stuart C.: Sleep. I yearn for sleep.
Jason R.: An extra hour of sleep or an Omega Speedmaster Professional. The former would be more valuable.
Dan B.: Not to be too sappy, but I always ask my kids to draw me a comic book or write me a story. This is one my son Gus wrote on my phone a couple of years ago:
Once upon a time there was a dad named “King Kongy.” He just turned 42 and was wearing a green shirt and was at a local Italian food place.
He had a son named Gus and a Starfish named Henry. He also had a wife named Lisa. Everyone knew Henry was such a coward that King Kongy had to bring him to the bathroom even though it was 12 year old.
Gust was the only one who had a record of being heroic. But all that was about to change. At 7:10 they saw an armed robber storm in.
“Nobody move!” He yelled. That was when King Kongy threw a fork and hit the gun out of the robber’s hand.
Then out of nowhere Henry suctioned onto the robber’s face until the police came and said, “Nice job Henry and King Kongy.”
Matt S.: All I want is to close down the bar and wake up the next day wishing I hadn’t.
Hugo S.: My ex-wife gets me the same thing every year (this goes back to when we were married): a coffee mug with the kids’ pictures on it. If you line the mugs up, it’s a great progression from infancy on.
Raymond L.: Peace and quiet.
Panio G.: Six hours of guilt-free solitude and a banana split.
Matt G.: Two-and-a-half hours: An hour to go for a run. Thirty minutes to shower. An hour to watch Impractical Jokers uninterrupted.
Grant B.: I just want a normal day. Nothing special. Just a normal Sunday. All the other stuff creates too much pressure and expectations: What’s the budget? How much should I spent? Is this enough? Will he like it? We already have Christmas, where we go way overboard. A day with them is gift enough — even if they’re all crabby.