Around the age of 12, my father took me to a water park. He had not been properly prepared. He was wearing jean shorts (this was the mid 80’s for context in case you couldn’t tell by the jean shorts). This kept him from sliding down the slides. I was embarrassed and acted like a jerk. I do not remember all aspects of the day. The highlights linger. It is a cloud hanging over moments of parenting today.
Four days ago, my daughter wanted to go for a bike ride. My bike had been buried under boxes since moving in a year and half ago. The previous weekend things were arranged to make it accessible. It was ready to be moved out and ridden. All that was needed was a tire pump (and a hope the tires were okay). I was prepared for something to be wrong with the tires. It would be disappointing, but understandable.
The tire pump not working was not prepared for. It was purchased last year and had worked numerous times on my daughter’s bike. Queue getting upset. Then checking it. Then taking it apart. Then, putting it back together.
Getting upset created 5-10 aggressive, frustrated, crappy, immature, childish forceful pumps of empty air through a broken tire pump into a bike tire going nowhere. Queue insecurity. Thoughts of having less. Self-pity, why me, and brokenness pushed out with each thrust of the pump.
My daughter asked, “Do I need to leave? Are you going to start cursing and yelling?” *Snap*. I looked up. Immediately embarrassed and asked, “Huh?” It was pointless. I heard her. Even knew why she was asking. Knew where the question had come from (not-our-house). “Have I ever done that?” “No”, she answered. Her question reached in and pulled me out of the moment, “Then why would I start now?” I replied smiling. Done. The bike ride was not going to happen. Fear. Embarrassment. Being a father with jean shorts at a water park was gone. There was more we could do. We moved on (I moved on).
An embarrassed child. A divorced father feeling the weight of what he saw growing up. Change does not happen on its own. In this case it happened in a kitchen, angry at a tire pump. It was never about my father and his jean shorts. In that moment, a 12-year-old boy was forgiven for his behavior. Then became a better father to his daughter.
A Vegan Father… no longer angry at a tire pump.
Posted. Not Perfect.
A Better Father 